“Look!” cried Whizzy quickly. “There on the horizon! Land ho! Do you see it, Sir? The Antarctic is in sight.”
CHAPTER 13
Getting There
“Land ho! The Antarctic is in sight,” Edward cried – and so it was.
Little Hotspur must have heard the word ‘land’ in his dreams, for he woke up and ran to join them at the round window. Edward lifted him up; Sophie pointed sideways and Hotspur gave a strange whistling cry. “We’ve been travelling for hours and hours,” exclaimed Sophie, “and it’s still daylight.”
“Of course!” Edward shouted back scornfully. “It’s close to Christmas, isn’t it? Midsummer in this part of the world! It’s going to be daylight all the time in the Antarctic.”
“Oh yes,” nodded Sophie, suddenly remembering. Then her expression changed. “No bedtime! Great!”
“Don’t forget that Santa Claus only brings presents to sleeping people,” yelled Edward. “Hey! We’d better get back and strap ourselves in before the plane lands.”
And, strapped into their windowless, webbing seats, they landed safely. The plane thudded down softly, slid forward, and came at last to a standstill. As people leaped to their feet, struggling into their survival jackets and pulling hoods over heads, Bonniface bounced up too, like a man who expects to be first off the plane. But then he realised that Hotspur would need help with his mukluks and zippers (though he was doing very well for someone aged only four). Bonniface sighed a little impatiently, but he helped Hotspur just as a good father should, nobly allowing other people to climb down from the Hercules ahead of him. At last, hung all over with various bags and packs and carrying Hotspur, he followed Edward and Sophie down the steps to stand, at last, on Antarctic snow.
Bonniface took a breath of deep fulfilment. Then he nudged Edward and Sophie to keep them moving, for Edward and Sophie were standing as if frozen – not with cold, but with amazement.
There in front of them, rising out of the snow, were long green sheds. Sophie and Edward could see snow tractors along with a fine flagpole, its flag dancing cheerfully and sometimes cracking like a whip. Directly ahead of them two lines of different coloured trucks were parked nose to nose. Big machines lumbered by looking busy; someone shot past, driving something that reminded Edward of a speedboat, but which he knew to be one of the skiddoos his father always spoke of with such longing and respect. A black helicopter was waiting on one of the helicopter pads, while yet another helicopter – a green and silver Antarctic dragonfly – throbbed like a beating heart, and then lifted into the air. Yet, for all its busy, bright machines, the whole big base seemed to be laid out on the snow like a toy, for beyond the helicopters, their landing pads, the bulldozers, skiddoos and the great green sheds, rose a strange white land, so huge and cold that its hugeness and coldness melted into each other and became single and magical.
The dragonfly helicopter tilted away over the green roofs. It made a lot of noise and, somewhere beyond it, tractors were roaring too; yet the silence of the Antarctic arched over all sounds, pressing down on them, and making them seem childish and easy to forget. Of course, the children could hear everything that was going on, but they heard the silence even more. Under all Sophie’s layers of clothes, the bone pendant leaped like a beating heart that has suddenly received good news.
Now the children were glad of their thermal underwear, their long johns, their two pairs of trousers, their polypropylene waistcoats and fleecy-lined survival jackets, not to mention their mitts and mukluks.
“This is just the beginning for us,” said Bonniface Sapwood, sounding more at home in the Antarctic than he did when was at home. “First we’re going to Shed Ten – that’s over there – to get our skiddoo. I’ve ordered the very best skiddoo available in the whole Antarctic… a true state-of-the-art skiddoo. It will be able to skim over the snow, light as a snowy petrel. Of course, most skiddoos are really just for one person, but they can pull trailers so you kids will be able to ride on our trailer behind me. We’ll start at once, and make for a particular snow hut I remember where we’ll camp for the—well, not for the night because there’s no night at this time of the year, but we’ll have a bit of a rest anyway. You know, I’m glad I brought you with me. It’s fun to think I’m sharing adventures with you.” He sounded a little surprised, but he did sound truly happy.
“What are those flags for?” asked Edward, pointing beyond the sheds and tractors. A long, long line of coloured flags led off over the snow, marching… on and on until the whiteness took over and it became impossible to be sure if the flags were still there.
“Those flags show us where the ground is safe,” explained Bonniface. “If we follow those flags we won’t fall into any crevasses. Of course, once we get beyond the flags we’ll have to be extra careful. But that’s all right! I told them to pack an ice drill.”
And, striding out boldly in his conquering mukluks, he led his children to Shed Ten.
Drawn up in front of the shed were – not one, but two skiddoos, both with covered trailers hitched on behind. One of them was a particularly beautiful skiddoo – a bright red in colour. Two men in red jackets and yellow overalls stood on either side of this elegant machine, looking with great pride at it.
“A four-seater skiddoo!” exclaimed Bonniface. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“Look at that instrument panel,” exclaimed Edward in delight. “This skiddoo looks like a sort of little space ship.”
“I asked for a state-of-the-art skiddoo,” said Bonniface, “but I didn’t expect anything quite as grand as this.”
“Oh, we had a special message from Rancid Swarthy Industries saying you were to have every support,” said one of the men in yellow overalls.
Bonniface blinked then beamed.
“That was kind of him,” he said. “Of course, Rancid Swarthy’s grandfather was First Mate on The Riddle, you know, so I suppose he takes an interest in Antarctic events.” All the same, Bonniface sounded rather surprised.
“Swarthy Industries said you were to have the fastest skiddoo available,” said the man, taking a notebook from his pocket and consulting it. “We’ve packed tents, a cell phone, sleeping bags, string, food, Sellotape, spare cans of skiddoo fuel, extra cans of skiddoo fuel, thermos flasks – everything you might need. Now, if you’ll just sign here to show you’ve taken delivery…”
“Who’s the blue skiddoo for?” asked Edward curiously.
“I think that must be for me,” said a voice right behind them – a laughing voice that was somehow very sure of itself.
CHAPTER 14
A Skiddoo is Stolen
At the sound of that voice Bonniface whirled around. A figure, zipped up to the ears in a blue jacket and blue trousers was standing right behind him. It was hard to be sure (for the figure’s face was mostly covered by snow goggles), but the children felt certain that the figure in blue was mocking Bonniface.
Then that figure pulled the hood of her survival jacket back and pushed her sun goggles up. Edward, Sophie and Hotspur all immediately recalled the many gold-framed photographs of their father’s exploring team, which hung up and down the stairs at home. This explorer was in most of them. She had a head covered in wild, carrot-coloured curls, big green eyes and a lopsided smile that made everyone she smiled at want to smile back at her. Certainly, Sophie couldn’t help smiling back, shooting a quick glance at the newcomer’s boots. Yes! Her mukluks were covered with gold and silver stars.
“Corona Wottley!” exclaimed Bonniface. “What are you doing here?”
“Bonniface, I am setting out to discover what happened to the lost Riddle,” said Corona. She rested her pack on the back seat of the red skiddoo. “A voice called to me. ‘Help!’ it said. ‘Help!’ And for some reason I knew it was The Riddle’s voice. I am going to find that doomed ship once and for all. I, Corona Wottley am going to restore it to its true place in history.”
“But I dreamed that cry for help too,” shouted Bonniface. �
��I’ll bet I dreamed it first, because I have had years and years of practice at Antarctic dreaming! And it gave me a new theory about where The Riddle might be. Corona, go and watch penguins! Find those albino birds that we used to hear rumours about! Only a highly experienced explorer is going to be able to locate The Riddle, and I’m the only highly experienced explorer here.”
“But you might be too high and too experienced,” said Corona. “What the discovery of The Riddle needs is a young explorer with a fresh, down-to-earth view of the ice.”
“What it needs,” yelled Bonniface, “is an explorer with a new skiddoo… a red skiddoo with state-of-the-art technology.” And he looked over at the red skiddoo with pride.
“You are quite right,” said Corona. And quick as a wink, she leaped into the driver’s seat and turned the key. Her pack was already on the back seat. Off she flew, moving like a beam of red light as she reversed, then swung out in a half-circle and slid away at great speed. Bonniface sprang to stop her. He missed and ran after her, shouting as he ran. But he was carrying Hotspur, and Hotspur weighed him down. Too late! Corona Wottley was on her way, shooting past the tractors and past the sheds, making for the line of coloured flags that wound away over the snow into infinite, white distance.
CHAPTER 15
Off and Away At Last
Bonniface nearly had a fit. “She’s pinched my skiddoo!” he yelled, shaking poor Hotspur in the heat of his fury. “She’s got my supplies. Stop her!”
“She hasn’t signed for that skiddoo either,” said one of the men, looking concerned.
“Well, Mr Sapwood,” said the other man, “the best thing you can do is to sign for this other skiddoo and take off after her. I’d go myself, but there’s a plane – one of the Swarthy Industries fleet – about to land in a minute and…”
“And Swarthy Industries take all our attention,” said the first man. “They pay for it in advance so…”
“But this blue skiddoo isn’t state-of-the-art,” cried Bonniface. “I ordered that super-computerised model… and don’t forget, I did have the backing of the Swarthy Industries. They’d want you to help me.”
“They’d want us to help them first,” said the second man.
“Oh, come on, Dad,” said Edward “Let’s go. We kids can ride on the trailer, can’t we?”
“We can tie ourselves on with all the bags and stuff,” said Sophie. “We’ll enjoy the fun of it.” And Hotspur warbled like a magpie.
“Your kids show good sense,” said one of the men in red approvingly. “I’d get after that skiddoo thief as quickly as possible.”
The children helped Bonniface strap their packs under the yellow tarpaulin that took up most of the trailer, and then they all squeezed into a space in front of the packs while Bonniface leaped into the driver’s seat of the blue skiddoo. Fortunately the motor started immediately and they shot away at a cracking pace, swinging around the end of a green shed and following the tracks that Corona had left behind her. People cheered and waved as they drove by. Within seconds, Boniface too was following the line of coloured flags.
“Wow! Great!” yelled Edward. “It’s like being on a moon buggy.”
But Bonniface couldn’t help frowning. His noble Riddle adventure was turning into yet another undignified Antarctic race and, no doubt about it, Corona was off to a wonderful start.
There was a roar overhead… already another plane was coming in to land. Sophie watched it, at first with interest and then with a curious feeling that was just a little like fear. It was not a Hercules. It was a black ski-plane which slid over the snow in a furtive, slippery way. As it shot by, in a shower of freezing spray, a face looked out of the window and she glimpsed a truly horrible smile. She hastily looked away and read the small red letters running along its side.
“Swarthy Industries,” she said aloud.
“Oh, them!” said Bonniface, in an absent-minded voice for, in spite of having had his red skiddoo hijacked by a junior explorer, he was beginning to enjoy himself. Even if you have been cheated out of a skiddoo that is rightfully yours, there is something wonderful about spinning out across Antarctic snow and seeing mountains ahead of you, beautiful as dreams yet somehow truer than dreams. Once you have seen those mountains there is no waking up from them. They are in your head for always.
As for Edward and Sophie, they were both now staring across a stretch of dark beach. Summer winds had beaten the snow back, revealing black sand and stones, curving away towards a distant headland. Embraced by this beach was yet another long curve (of broken ice this time), and beyond the ice, the sea spread like a great blue plain. Old! Old! Old! that Antarctic sea whispered to Sophie while, in the distance, on the other side of the sea, far, far beyond the black stones and the broken ice, Sophie could make out another distant blue-and-white shoreline marked with valleys, peaks and glaciers.
“It’s like being on another planet,” said Edward again.
“It’s cold enough to freeze your nose off!” said Sophie. Indeed the cold was so fierce it seemed as if you should be able to fling your arms around it and wrestle with it, as you might with a bear.
The skiddoo motor kept up its chatter and snow shushed away on either side of them, but it was impossible to forget the silence, always there, just beyond the busy fringes of sound. Sometimes the land under the snow rose and fell, so that they shot up-over-then-down, up-over-then-down, and whenever this happened it felt as if the Antarctic was breathing beneath them. All three children yelled with pleasure and Bonniface cheered up even more. Sophie began to sing.
“If you feel blue, get on your skiddoo
And swiffle your way through the snow,
Skiddare to be bold even though it is cold
Skiddon’t let it lay you low!
Skiddaddle along, singing a song
Skiddoodle what has to be done!
Your heart will skiddance at each fabulous chance
And skididdle-dee-dee at the fun.”
After she had sung this song twice Edward was able to join in, while as for Hotspur, he sang like a lark, embroidering the edges of the song with the sort of whistling that has no beginning or end. After ten verses even Bonniface joined in the carolling as they whisked along, singing their hearts out, but always knowing that the silence, which was waiting all around them, would win out in the end.
“Dad, it is so beautiful,” cried Sophie at last, and Bonniface looked at her, smiling and surprised, as if she had just made him look at the Antarctic in a different way.
“It is,” he agreed. “It really is.”
CHAPTER 16
A Ghost with Problems
“I must remember! I must remember!”
On The Riddle, the ghost of Captain Cathcardo was standing as still as a frozen man. He had prowled around his ship many times by now, rather as if he were learning it by heart, and he was rather enjoying this patch of stillness which made him feel as if he were actually part of his ship. All the same, there were plenty of things he was still wondering about, and parts of a ship don’t usually wonder about anything.
“I was a captain and now I am a ghost,” he repeated dreamily. “I have lost my pendant and I can’t leave The Riddle. How did all this happen?”
Captain Cathcardo found he couldn’t remember anything useful. All the same he could feel all sorts of things going on in his head… coloured lines were winding and weaving in and out of each other. Look! There was a blue line and he traced it with pleasure because, for some reason, he felt as if it might be bringing him good luck. Not only that, the blue line seemed to be chasing after a carrot-coloured line which, for some reason, reminded him of the days when he was a dashing young explorer anxious to discover absolutely everything.
But what about that black skull-shaped smudge, which seemed to be chasing after both the blue and red lines and snapping its teeth all the way? There was something about that smudge which made the Captain’s ghostly hair stand on end and give off sparks of eerie alarm. The blue
line, the carroty one and the black skull-shaped patch all seemed to be swinging in his direction, acting out some sort of a story as they came towards him, but Captain Cathcardo couldn’t quite make out what was happening in that story.
Someone is coming my way, he thought. I do know that. It feels as if my pendant is coming back to me. And it looks as if someone else is following it. Why? It might be because of those diamonds.
Diamonds!
The Captain was thunderstruck. He had remembered something new, and all without trying. He had found diamonds. He had climbed down (all on his own) into a pit of some kind. There had been water at the bottom of it – warm water! But here the Captain hesitated, pulled a face, and then began pacing again. Because how could there possibly be warm water in the Antarctic – a place where whole oceans freeze over? Yet, all the same, the water had been warm. He had definitely felt its warmth, even through his mukluks.
Captain Cathcardo clutched his poor head in dismay and rocked it from side to side. To his horror his whole head came off in his hands and he had to concentrate on putting it back again, so that his eyes looked more or less straight ahead once more. But even while his head was still rocking between his hands it was struggling to remember. You found diamonds, part of his melted memory told him. Hundreds of them – just lying around. Of course, they hadn’t been cut and polished and glittering like the diamonds in a jeweller’s window, but they were true diamonds for all that. A fortune in diamonds!
And the funny thing was, he thought (straightening his head just a little bit more), he hadn’t been looking for diamonds. He had been looking for something else… something much more interesting than there jewels. Captain Cathcardo’s face suddenly brightened and his blueish light brightened too. Of course! He had been searching for meteorites. That had been part of his Antarctic research, though his old friend, Escher Black, had rather sneered at meteorites. But dear old Escher, bless his heart, had been a sailor not a scientist.
The Riddle of the Frozen Phantom Page 4