“The usual, reprojecting raster into vector images while dreaming of lying on a tropical beach”.
He laughed. “And how long until that’s a reality?”
Ben glanced at his watch. “3 months 14 days and err… about 24 minutes”.
He nodded sagely. “Ever heard of the saying ‘a watched pot never boils’ ”.
Ben laughed. “I know I know”.
He started wolfing down his breakfast. As he was finishing Professor Florence Chapman the Head of Station walked up to their table. Professor Chapman had the distinction of being the first female station head and was something of a rising star in the academic world. She also cut an impressive figure with her short blonde hair, slightly Germanic face, and smartly dressed attire. Unusually, as well as being ferociously ambitious she had the intellectual ability to match it and when she set her mind to something she normally got it.
“Morning campers. Everybody up and raring to go?”
Wendy was the first to answer with a resounding, if slightly sarcastic, “Yes Ma’am”.
Professor Chapman frowned slightly at Wendy and then turned her attention to Joe. “Joe I suspect you’re going to be up at your drill sites this morning but can you pop by the equipment shed later? I want to review all the geological paraphernalia we have in there. I’m sure there must be some redundant materials the resupply ship can take away with it when it finally gets here.”
He glanced up at Professor Chapman. Wendy and Ben exchanged a brief look. “Sure, it definitely needs going through. I even found some old hobbles there the other day”.
Ben looked at him questioningly. “Hobbles?”
“They were used to control the pack horses” Joe replied. “Geologists used the horses to shift rock samples around before we had mechanised tracks…..the horses were also a useful source of meat if supply ships got stuck or delayed”.
Ben pulled a face. “God I hope the resupply ship gets here quick otherwise we’ll be forced to eat one another”. Everyone laughed.
Joe turned to Professor Chapman “What sort of time do you want me there Professor Chapman”?
Professor Chapman glanced at the clock on the wall. “3 o’clock ish? Will that give you enough time to pick up your samples and get back?”
“Yep that’ll be fine, I’ll see you later”. He rose from the table. “See you Ben.” “Wendy I’ll see you out by the snow track in about 10 minutes?”
“Fine see you there”. Wendy answered.
Wendy was down at the transport hanger chatting with some of the other scientists when He exited the station’s living quarters. Given the calm conditions, including an incredibly clear blue sky, two dozen scientists milling around in red snowsuits did look a touch ridiculous. However despite the bright sunshine when he checked the thermometer hanging on the outside of the building it was showing minus 5. This was actually quite warm when one considered it could plummet to minus 60 during the winter months, nevertheless most of the scientists would be glad of their snowsuits when travelling on their snowmobiles to the various experiment sites. The wind, as opposed to the temperature, was the real danger on Antarctica. Even at a relatively moderate 30-40 mph minus 5 degrees would feel more like minus 50. He and Wendy were unlikely to encounter any major problems with the snow track but he still went round the vehicle making the necessary safety checks. Once these were completed he and Wendy got in and started out toward the end of the Stancomb-Wills glacier.
The Stancomb-Wills was one of Antarctica’s largest and oldest glaciers, rising from the slopes of Dome Fuji a 1000 miles to the East before ending its life 10 miles from Halley station where it met the Weddell Sea. It took the track about 45 minutes to make the trip and though he could have done it quicker he set a measured pace. During the summer months, especially next to the coast, the ice tended to melt slightly during the ‘day’ and then refreeze again as the Sun reached its lowest point in the sky at ‘night’. This meant that close to the coast where the ice shelf was also affected by the movement of the sea the surface could get surprisingly bumpy. As he didn’t want to spend his morning fixing a broken track he kept their speed down.
Reaching the glacier he dropped Wendy off and agreed to pick her up again at 12.00 GMT. He then proceeded along the bottom of the glacier towards his own drill site, which was located another 10 miles inland. This close to the gleaming almost translucent walls the Stancomb-Wills really was an impressive sight. He always felt somewhat humbled knowing that the ice here had probably fallen as rain or snow some 150,000 years ago in the centre of the continent.
As a geologist he could appreciate the glacier and understand how it had shaped the landscape as it made its way across the continent but his principal speciality, and the source of his grant funding, was the make-up of old shield rocks. His research focus consisted of analysing spectrographic rock samples taken from deep within the earth giving him a glimpse into what was happening on the planet three billion years ago. Though Antarctica was an excellent place to gather such samples it did take a bit of effort to get down to the raw material. For a start there was a kilometre of ice to melt through before reaching bed rock. Nevertheless he felt himself lucky to be drilling on the coastal shelf. Up on the central plateaux the ice could be up to 4km thick and getting samples there needed an extremely expensive melting rig and drill combination; as well as a team of people to operate the equipment. Even the relatively modest equipment he was using wasn’t cheap and he’d needed help from his colleagues to set it up. The diamond tipped, bi-hydraulic drill combined with a pressurised heated water pump and pipes had set the British Antarctic Survey back two million pounds when they’d bought it 18 months ago. If it wasn’t for the presence of oil and other minerals he doubted the British government would have continued to have been so generous all these years. Of course it also helped that the Argentinians kept on making nationalistic noises about the Falklands and the British Antarctic claim. He couldn’t see any British government wanting to let the Argentinians on to their ‘God given’ patch any time soon.
Next to the drilling operation he’d set up a small seismic measuring unit, which allowed him to keep an eye on the drill’s progress from back at base. If the drill fouled up or hit something unexpected the unit registered a change in the vibration and subsequently alerted him to the problem via a mobile phone app he’d developed. It was much more effective to use the seismic unit than trying to keep a CCTV system running in the extreme temperatures. The unit actually served a dual purpose as it also kept him abreast of seismic movements elsewhere on the continent. As he was finishing loading the latest rock samples he saw the unit was registering a reading. Taking a quick break he downloaded the data to his laptop and was somewhat surprised to see that the epicentre of the quake had occurred towards the middle of the continent. This was unusual given the central plateaux was normally tectonically quiet. He made a mental note to ask his colleagues at some of the other research stations what they thought about the reading when he got back. Seismology wasn’t really his thing but he liked to keep his finger in some of the other disciplines; if just to keep in the loop with the other geologists and their work on Antarctica.
Before long he was picking up Wendy and they were heading back to the station. The sun continued to shine and off to the right they could see the waves of the Weddell Sea crashing against what remained of the ice sheet. The ice sheet would extend outwards by another 20 or 30 kilometres by the time they left Antarctica at the end of the summer; and by another 60 km should they ever be unfortunate enough to be stationed at Halley at the end of winter. The never ending white desert like landscape, with its unexpected ice and rock sculptures appearing from swirls of powered snow, did had a tendency to enthral you as you travelled across it. The sense of isolation and sheer aloneness was sometimes so powerful that he found himself believing there might actually be some sort of a higher power. Hence his agnostic as opposed to purely atheist belief system. As his attention wandered the snow track managed t
o hit a larger than expected obstacle and he returned to the task in hand i.e. getting back to base in one piece. He also caught the tail end of a sentence Wendy had directly towards him, something about how a huge piece of the glacier had broken off into the sea while she was working on it that morning.
“Joe if you’d have been there 60 minutes or so ago you would have seen it yourself. It really was quite something. I don’t think I’ve seen such a big calving since I’ve been here”.
He replied thoughtfully. “A pity I missed it, those really big break offs are pretty rare, did you say it occurred an hour or so before I picked you up?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Well I think it might be linked to the quake readings my little portable unit picked up. There was a modest but deep earthquake around that time right near the centre of the continent. I’d imagine that’s what caused your breakoff”.
Wendy nodded her head. “Right, that sounds like it could be the cause. It’ll be interesting to see if the other glaciers on the shelf were affected. I’ll check out the webcams when I get back.”
As he and Wendy drove back into the station vehicle park Michael Chapman drew up in one of the snow mobiles. Michael was the station’s microbiologist as well as being the somewhat older husband of Professor Chapman - as evidenced by his receding hairline.
Wendy got down and greeted Michael. “Hi Michael how’s things?”
“Not so bad Wendy, nice to get a longer break in the weather. Are you just back from the Stancomb?”
“Yeah in fact I wanted to tell you there’s been a big iceberg calving this morning. I’m pretty sure there’ll be plenty of exposed ice for you to check for microorganisms if you’re interested”.
Michael’s face lit up. “Ok great, thanks for letting me know Wendy, that’s good news - I could do with some new specimens”. He smiled at her and Joe. “I’ll be out there first thing tomorrow morning.” As he hung up the keys for the snow mobile he continued. “Anyway better dash I need to check my homebrew for Greg’s birthday party tonight. Are you guys coming?”
Wendy answered straight away. “Absolutely wouldn’t miss it for the world….and also there’s nothing else to do” she said laughing.
With just a hint of a pause Joe followed up with. “Definitely. Looking forward to trying your homebrew Michael”.
The three of them went their separate ways. Michael to the biology lab, Wendy to the living quarters and Joe towards the equipment shed which was located out past the transport hanger.
When he reached the shed, which was really more of a long low building storing the bulkier equipment used by the different scientific teams, Professor Chapman was already inside making herself look busy with a clipboard and pen. However as soon as he closed the door behind him she discarded these and greeted him with a passionate kiss. Having just come from talking with her husband he was slightly more hesitant but returned it in kind.
Their affair had been going on for a couple of months now but he still felt self-conscious about it. As well as carrying on under the nose of her husband, he wasn’t sure of the ethics of sleeping with his supposed boss. Nevertheless his initial reluctance to Professor Chapman’s immediate attentions only lasted as long as it took her to drag him down to the far end of the shed and start taking off his snowsuit.
“My god Florence you’re keen”.
Florence slid her hand down into his trousers. “Oh if you’re not interested Joe…”. She tugged at him playfully.
His resolve was fading rapidly but he felt honour bound to offer some sort of resistance. “It’s not that….I just find it a bit strange knowing that your husband’s only a couple of hundred metres away.”
Florence continued to move her hand back and forth while she pressed herself against him. “Oh I’m sorry Joe I didn’t realise you were so afraid of my microbiologist husband. It must be terrifying for you knowing that at any moment he could pick up his 5 foot 9 inch frame and decide to roam the base seeking out his wife to ask her to sign a requisition form” She paused for a moment in the rhythm she’d established. “But you’re right maybe we should stop this. It’s probably gone on far too long…..oh but before we do I thought you might like to see what’s underneath my snow suit?”
Florence unzipped her snow suit allowing it to fall from her shoulders. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. His eyes were drawn to her pert breasts. Florence pulled him close. “Now what was it you were saying about how we should stop this?” He sighed, he knew when he was beaten.
After they’d got their breath back Florence propped herself up on one arm and said “Right equipment audit time”.
Lying on their discarded snow suits he turned to look at her in amazement. “I knew it. You got me here under false pretences!”
Florence put on an innocent face. “Well Joe it does need doing and I’m sure I’ve read somewhere it’s good to mix work with pleasure – you didn’t seem to mind the pleasure bit”.
He gave a wry smile. “Well you certainly know how to motivate your workforce”.
By the time he got back to the station living quarters after undertaking the equipment audit the dining room was already starting to thin out. He spotted Wendy and Ben sitting at their normal table and Wendy waved him over.
“Joe tell Ben about the seismic activity you witnessed this morning and how you think it could be related to the break off at my glacier”.
He was only too happy to keep the conversation to a work related topic and while he was eating his meal he went over his theory about the unusual activity at the centre of the continent. He finished up by saying. “So I should really check in with the geologists in the other research stations to see what they think about this”.
Wendy glanced at him inquiringly. “Oh I thought you were going to do that this afternoon?”
He winced inwardly. “Yes yes I was going to but then the equipment audit took longer than I expected”.
Wendy smiled. “Oh right with Professor Chapman, I hope that wasn’t too tiring for you?” She and Ben looked at him expectantly.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He had a feeling he knew where this was going so decided to make a swift exit. “No no not too tiring, but anyway speaking of getting in touch with my guys I’d better get on that before they all log off for the evening”.
He sat down at his computer in the earth science lab and shifted the mouse back and forth to bring the screen back to life. 5 emails were waiting for him. All work colleagues. This was somewhat of a relief as he’d half expected another caustic email from his ex-wife Jessica. When he’d returned from Antarctica the year before he’d hoped to surprise her with his presence, which admittedly he had, but unfortunately he’d also managed to surprise Dave Bassett her Pilates teacher at the same time. He’d been pretty cut up to start with, especially since he’d been entirely faithful to her while he’d been away. In a way he didn’t blame her that much. What had he expected her to do during the six months he’d been away? He guessed he’d expected her to wait for him but obviously that hadn’t been on the cards. In the end it was probably best they’d split up when they did. There were no children and the only shared asset was the London flat. After she’d moved in with ‘Dave’ he’d agreed to put the flat on the market but, as was his wont, he’d put it off and off and then suddenly found himself back in Antarctica again. Jessica had gone ballistic when he’d told her where he was and that he was going to “sort the whole flat thing out when he got back”. She’d gone on and on about how this was “Absolutely typical” and just why she’d left him in the first place. As he was always “putting himself first and not considering others”. He hadn’t heard from her since and wondered whether any of his stuff would still be there when he returned home.
His attention turned back to the unread emails in his inbox. Two were from researchers back in the UK asking him for core sample data, one was from an old colleague wanting to work with him on a research paper and another from a PhD student hoping to
get him to supervise their thesis. He replied non-committedly to all of these, his mind wasn’t really focused on academic matters at the moment. He shook his head sharply to clear his mind and took a swig of cold coffee from the cup he’d left on his desk the day before. The fifth email was from Gerry Dyer a fellow geologist over at the main British Antarctic base Rothera. Gerry was asking him if he’d heard anything from his friends at Amundsen-Scott or Concordia. Both of these stations, the first run by the Americans and the second by a French/Italian team, were located much further inland. He had a quick check to see if any of them were online and then replied that he hadn’t and that they didn’t appear to be on Skype either. Gerry messaged him shortly afterwards.
“Joe thanks for the email. I haven’t been able to get hold of them all afternoon”.
He typed back. “Really? That is a bit unusual. They’re almost always on at some point. Have you tried giving them a satellite call?”
Gerry came back straight away. “Yep nothing going through”.
He wasn’t overly concerned. “It’s probably just another of those storms over the transantarctic mountains screwing up our multi-million pound communication systems.”
O-Negative: Extinction Page 3