The Voyage

by Douglas Falk

“Enough with the gloom and doom. We still have a chance of making it, even though I admit that the universe is pitched against us right now. Do you have any coverage on your cell phone?”

  William burst into laughter. “My phone? It’s been dead for days. Do you see any phone chargers out here? I should have charged it at Amundsen-Scott, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. There is zero coverage out here because there are no radio towers mounted in Antarctica. GPS does not work here, but you knew that already. We lost communications well before Amundsen-Scott, and we couldn’t call someone now even if we wanted to. And even if we could call someone, who’d come to our rescue? The Antarctic ambulance will come barging in here and split the ice to rescue us?”

  “I know. I was just wondering. We have to finish this the analogue way. We’ll walk for as long as our hearts are still beating.”

  “Amen,” said William and drank from his water bottle. “What do you suppose my father will think when word reaches him about what has happened down here? When they discover the body of Jacques Seydoux, and they’ll pin the murder on the both of us. What will he think?”

  John grabbed hold of the paraffin lamp. It radiated a soothing, pleasurable warmth on his hands and jolted out in his whole body. He closed his eyes and thought about what to answer. “He’ll be confused and confounded. But at the same time, he’ll try to reach a logical conclusion…that even if we did take someone’s life, we did not do it in cold blood or for our own sick pleasure. I mean, he doesn’t know me, but he knows you. He’ll try to make sense of it all.”

  “There is nothing logical about this expedition, John. I think we can put that to bed. And I have the right to say that…because this is my expedition, after all!”

  “I will grant you this, my friend,” said John. “You do have a nose for adventure. What I have experienced these past couple of months is more memorable than the twenty-five years that preceded them. And we will fight to the last gasp. You offed someone today, yes. And I don’t know how that feels. But move on—it had to be done. He tried to strangle me.”

  “It’s all right. I do feel better now. I have put it behind me. The man was vile, and he only cared for money and fame. We are on an important quest that will reshape the future for all mankind if successful. We are not doing this for money or other provincial purposes. A cause that will, if we are being honest, likely be the end of us. Seydoux would never have given his life for a cause greater than himself. Do you agree?”

  John looked at his googly-eyed friend and smiled. “I agree with everything you just said. Whatever happened, happened. Now let us rest. A long night’s sleep for the very last stage in our daunting expedition. How about that?”

  William raised his water bottle. “Cheers for that! Na zdrowie!” He unscrewed the cork on the water bottle and began to drink. But no liquid came pouring out of it. He looked at the bottle and laughed out loud.

  “The water’s frozen! If I was a superstitious man, I’d say that this is a foreshadowing of our endgame.”

  “Don’t even start with that. Nothing is written, not even our endgame. Good night.”

  “Good night, John.”

  John put the light out, and the tent went completely dark and silent. Only their prolonged, aching breaths in the cold could be heard.

  21

  Sergeant Alexei Larionov walked towards the corpse and crouched by the body. He ran his fingers across the blood-covered chest of the Canadian, which had turned pitch black.

  Well, just as we’ve been told, this man met his maker several days ago. These thugs have a head start, and we are not likely to catch them with Snowcats. Could we even catch them with helicopters or if we were to scramble jet fighters? I doubt it.

  His hands fondled the dead man’s body, and he began to prowl through the coat pockets. He found a large leathery item, which he pulled out and examined.

  Wallet and ID. Jacques Olivier Laurent Seydoux, born on July 27, 1967, in Quebec, Canada. His ugly mug stands out even more on this photograph.

  “Private Wickbom! Get the body on the stretcher and drag it back to Amundsen-Scott for me.”

  “Sir!”

  Seydoux’s corpse was frozen to the degree that it took three men to scoop him up. Privates Wickbom, Fransson, Pantzerhielm, and Neppelberg had to bring out the ice picks to hack the ice away that pinned the corpse to the ground. Finally, they managed to heave the desecrated corpse on the stretcher and off to the base. Larionov spun around and saw the silhouette of Amundsen-Scott. It was situated only some thousand feet away from the place of Seydoux’s death, but nevertheless hard to see in the snowstorm.

  What to do here? The outer perimeter is under threat. The two young men could pose a real potent threat. These irrational kids…what are they doing? Are they on a wild acid trip, or are they really searching for what lies only a couple of miles inland? I don’t care, though. They are a threat to their surroundings, and thus…the whole world.

  Larionov had arrived at Amundsen-Scott with twenty men strong the very same morning and conversed with a certain Paige Coulson, who gave him the quick rundown of the situation. Two young men from the Lockheed Martin group had killed a fellow crewmember and taken off with the supplies belonging to the remaining three.

  I will head back to the base and make a call to someone above my paygrade. John Wilander and William Milton now pose a threat to the entire world, and they need to be eliminated.

  22

  Is there no end to this endless, icy desolation where nothing grows? This white, empty void. Antarctica appears to be like the Einsteinian model of the universe we’ve been taught…infinite. The former seems to be more likely than the latter, judging by the last month we’ve spent here.

  They were lucky today with the weather, once again. A stretch of lucky days and lucky nights by Antarctic standards. For five days now, they had journeyed onwards without facing any major hurdles in their way. They slept well and kept on walking, ever walking. On the fifth day, the hopeful trend was still unbroken. They slept through the night without even the slightest disturbance from wind or weather. Well rested and fed, they were ready to fight another day.

  “Let’s put the tent pieces in the sled and get going. The Sun is up, John. And you know what they say. Make hay while the Sun still shines.”

  John rose to the task and packed the tent up in a record pace.

  This is something to tell the grandkids after all of this mayhem I’ve been through. I went to Antarctica to find the ends of the Earth…and I became an expert at setting up tents. Small beginnings and all that.

  “It’s packed. We’re ready. Shall we?”

  “We shall,” said William, and he took the lead while John pulled the sled from behind. They had decided to switch around their previous sled detail formula; instead of changing after each day, they would now change every fourth hour to maximise their potential. They knew they had to walk a long way yet, and the load had to be shared equally.

  If there’s a hot pursuit for us, they better gear up. We’re not giving in.

  They waded through the snow in silence, and John missed the sounds of nature.

  The chirping of birds would be a start.

  “John, do you know who we should have brought along with us on this expedition?”

  “I don’t. Whom?”

  “Eddie Bravo. You know who that is?”

  “The jiu-jitsu master? Yes, I know of him and his interest in this subject.”

  “That time when he took on Joe Rogan…ah. It was, as the kids say these days, epic. He’ll be over the Moon if we prove him right!”

  “Ha, I don’t doubt it. We owe it to him. I’d like to see him vindicated in public. The guy was one of the first who spoke out about this, yes?”

  “Yeah,” said William.

  As William deployed the tent that night, John went through what was left in the sled. “Despite nicking all of their supplies, the food and water’s about to run out. For real this time. We have food and water for fou
r or five days more. Six, tops,” he growled.

  “Then let us seize the day and take advantage of these last couple of days,” said William calmly.

  They walked, and they walked. Their fighting spirit was high, but they started to notice a slight change in the terrain. The layer of snow on the plains had begun to deepen, and their walking pace was severely slowed down as a result. They now had to struggle wading through the snow, and at times the both of them had to pull the sled.

  Does it ever end, God? Does it? It has to end. Everything has an end. If there is a beginning, there must be an end. What goes up must come down.

  At the end of the day when they had trudged through a particularly rough ice glacier, they paid notice to something peculiar. The Sun was setting much earlier than the day before. It was William who noticed the anomaly. “Are you sure it set earlier today? What time is it exactly?”

  William looked at his wristwatch. “It’s four o’clock sharp. Strange. I could have sworn that the sunset occurred at 4:20 only yesterday.”

  Hang on. How is this possible? We are into early May right now, sure. And the Antarctic winter is coming, when it will be completely dark here for many months. But now…it’s too early. It doesn’t make a lick of sense.

  They kept trudging through the white inferno the next day, but an insight about as comforting as a wet blanket began to crystallise itself for the pair.

  Our storage is as good as empty. Even if we would starve ourselves, this will last for three days more at best. What the hell have we been doing? Why didn’t we plan for this when we escaped Amundsen-Scott? We should have brought more…much more. But hindsight is 20/20, after all. No reason to cry about it now. Onward, we go.

  John pulled the sled this time around while William led the way with a compass in his left hand and the camera tripod stick in his right. Whatever would happen from here on out, they did know one thing—their course was straight as an arrow. Not for one second did they allow for any mistakes to happen on that front.

  As morning turned into afternoon, a pattern began to emerge. The same phenomenon in the skies happened today.

  “The Sun’s going down, see! But it’s just half past three! Why is the Sun setting a half an hour earlier today? It makes…it makes no sense. Can you make sense of this?” said William and turned around to John.

  What could it mean? Not only is the sunset taking place thirty minutes earlier than yesterday, it looks weird. Yeah. The Sun appears to be smaller in angular size, and the colour of it seems to be paler, not as brightly yellow as we are used to. I can’t remember ever recalling the Sun appearing like this in the sky. What could it mean…what could it mean?

  “I have no clue, honestly. It doesn’t make any sense,” said John.

  Hang on. I’ve got it. I might just have solved it. Could it because of…could it? Could it really be so? Let’s wait and see before I get my hopes up.

  “Whatever the case may be with the Sun, it has not fully set. Let’s fight until the night is upon us,” shouted John.

  William grunted a boar-like, guttural sound that John interpreted as a yes.

  Well, he is pulling the damned sled after all. Can’t blame him for not being all chitty-chatty.

  They kept walking towards south until taking another step in the snow was an utter impossibility, as the sunset had come and gone, and there was not even a hint of light to be found. Not even moonlight came to their rescue—they had not seen the Moon for days, and this night was not an exception.

  “Jesus Christ, William. The amount of sunlight we’ve been getting these past days…the Sun’s only up for a couple of hours. What time is it right now?

  “Three o’clock sharp.”

  “Again, thirty minutes earlier than the day before. If this keeps going, we’ll be in total darkness within just a matter of days! What is this?”

  William shrugged. “I don’t have the foggiest, John. I’m as confused as you are. The Antarctic winter is coming, but it is more than a whole month away, and it sure as hell should not be escalating this quickly. Could it be that the Sun is behaving anomalous because we are at the very far ends of the Earth and therefore we see the apparent position of the Sun being projected differently? I don’t know, John. I don’t know. I am at a loss for words.”

  —

  The next day followed the trend to a tee. The Sun went down a whole hour earlier than before.

  “It’s two o’clock, and it’s nearly gone!” said William.

  “How…hmm. How many miles have we walked today, do you think?”

  “It’s hard to say,” said William and squinted towards the very last rays of sunlight cast over them. “It looks…weird, doesn’t it? It looks fainter, not as bright as it appears to be back home, or even in Australia. Or even at Amundsen-Scott, for that matter. We must have come to a place on Earth that radiates electromagnetic anomalies.”

  “I thought I was the only one,” said John in agreement. “The Sun looks so…I don’t know, eerie. Very eerie. While we are at anomalies, did you notice that the snow layer wasn’t as deep as it was yesterday? Maybe my mind’s playing tricks on me, but today I felt like trudging through the snow wasn’t as cumbersome. It felt like an easier walk today.”

  “Was it?” asked William. “I drifted away today. I was miles away. I was letting my mind wander off back to easier times. Christmas dinner at Ulriksdal. It’s like they say, you know.”

  “What do people say?”

  “All of man’s troubles comes from his inability to sit quietly in a room by himself.”

  John laughed. “Maybe because that’d be quite a dull life. We are hardwired to seek adventure and overcome hurdles. Solving problems. It’s in our nature, our DNA.”

  “I know, my friend. I was just saying…”

  “Yeah. So, you don’t believe that my observation holds any water?” asked John.

  “What observation?”

  “That the terrain is changing. The snow layer isn’t nearly as thick as it was before. We’ll see if my theory is proven right by the morning. I think it’s getting warmer and that the snow is melting…for whatever reason. We may be walking into an area that is more temperate. Warmer.”

  “Warmer! Oh John. You are clutching at straws here, I fear. I mean, I’d love for your wishful thinking to be true, but I remain sceptical. Just because the snow layer is an inch less thick doesn’t mean much. At least not until we see some real evidence.”

  “Why are you so gloom and doom all of a sudden? I just told you that it’s getting warmer and that the terrain is getting easier to navigate by the day. Why don’t you at least think about it, consider it as a possibility?”

  “I am thinking about it. I am considering all possible scenarios for how this journey will end for us, and there is one way out we can take if all goes to hell, and we are facing a slow, agonizing last couple of days here in the cold with no food or water. I suppose we could start eating snow before we eat one another, but that still wouldn’t exactly work in the long term. Seydoux’s pistol is in the sled. I wrapped it in a couple of blankets at the very bottom, but it’s there. I only fired one round of his Glock, which means that there are five or even ten bullets left in the mag. If push comes to shove, we only need two bullets. Do you catch my drift, John?”

  John stared at him with a worried look.

  “Yeah, I’m not stupid. I get it. But that should be our plan B, C, or D. When all hope is lost, we might consider that. But not right now. Okay? I have hope. I feel hopeful about this. Hope that we can make it out of this alive.”

  “A fool’s hope…”

  “Maybe so. And you’ll get your hopes up too, soon enough. I know these things.”

  They spent the rest of the day covered up inside the tent and sat for the most part in complete silence. It was pitch black outside, and it felt like it was an eternity ago when they saw the Sun. They went to sleep, and when they woke up the following morning it was still black as night outside. Finally, at around ten
o’clock in the morning, the Sun reared her face to them.

  They packed up the tent and prepared to leave. John put his hand on William’s shoulder. “Come on now. We are not done yet. To the last breath.”

  “Do you know what I’d like to do right now, John?”

  “No. What would that be?”

  “Get high as a kite, or amped up on some other drug. I should have brought some from Australia. During our last day in Perth, I should have made sure to get us some acid or the like. The Aussies love drugs, and it’s easy to attain if you know where to look. It’d be a perfect time to take it now. If we are going to die, why not go out with a smile on our faces…”

  “Shut up, you. Dropping acid out here might have been fun for an hour or two, but I can guarantee you that we would jeopardise everything and we’d likely never wake up the next morning. We’d just keel over in the snow and be unceremoniously buried here in the middle of nowhere and our bodies would never be found. That’s not going to happen, okay? Now we go forward. To the last breath.”

  “All right, John. I’m with you. There’s strength in me left.”

  John pulled the sled, and William carried the compass and dragged the tripod stick. Again, John felt a remarkable change in the terrain.

  It’s real. It’s not imaginary…this is a piece of cake! I’m floating through this. It’s barely any snow here to talk of. Not only that, I’m not even cold any more. Hell, I think I’m even sweating! And there’s not a cloud to be seen, not a breeze to be felt.

  “William! Are you seeing this? Feeling this? I haven’t gone crazy; I was right!”

  William knelt by the snow and grasped a handful. “I’ll be damned. You are right, goddammit! The terrain really is getting easier to walk! And it’s not even…it’s not even cold. I don’t feel chilly in the slightest.”

  “I told you as much!”

  They looked up at the Sun, which appeared in the sky as a tiny pinprick of pale yellow light. The Sun had only been up for about two hours, but it had nearly set again.

  “It’s almost gone completely, for crying out loud! The time?” shouted John.