The Sam Reilly Collection Volume 2

by Christopher Cartwright

  Each step, he needed to consciously dig his ice boots in, and place the ice pick before making another move. He knew he should have gone back for more help, but his need to know what had happened to the scientists consumed him. With each step, he was certain he was going to make the 200-foot precipice. There he would be able to see the station at least. Then, with a direct line of sight he should definitely be able to communicate with the scientists via his hand held VHF radio.

  Sam pulled himself over the last section of solid ice and reached the peak. The coast of Antarctica came into view. He struck his icepick in hard and tethered himself to it for safety. Not far in the distance, perhaps another few miles on the other side of the small ice mountain, he spotted the Pegasus Station.

  It was little more than a dome shaped mound of snow, too symmetrical to be anything other than manmade. He adjusted the binoculars to see if he could make contact with any of the scientists. The place looked deserted. A single French flag was the only evidence of human involvement at the camp. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but he was certain there should have been more than this.

  Above the science station and spread out along the horizon, a timid display of colorful lights took his breath away. An Aurora Australis, the southern version of the Northern Lights filled the dark sky with vivid reefs of green, blue, red and purple.

  Sam opened up the antenna for his portable VHF radio and depressed the transmitter button. “Pegasus science station. Does anyone read me?”

  The radio made the sound of constant static. The same as when someone accidentally leaves the button for the microphone open, and it picks up every sound. Instead of being able to hear anything comprehensible, it produced a garbled mess of white noise.

  He tried again. “Pegasus science station. This is Sam Reilly, from the Maria Helena. Can anyone hear me?”

  More static.

  He turned to face the Maria Helena. “Maria Helena. This is Sam Reilly. Come in for a radio check, please.”

  He received the same, constant garbled response he’d heard before.

  Sam tried once more, and then gave up.

  The heavy ionization of the spectacular display of lights were probably wreaking havoc on the transmission of radio waves. He lifted the binoculars back to his eyes, and traced a route back from the Pegasus station. When he reached the impassable chasm that split the Antarctic continent and the iceberg, Sam stopped. He studied the chasm. The iceberg ran east to west. From the east, where he’d recently searched, the gap was too large to cross and continued all the way to the ocean. From the west the chasm narrowed until it was no more than a foot or so wide at places.

  Using the binoculars, Sam followed it backwards from the western end to the base of the hill he was standing upon. He stopped when he found a single portion of the iceberg where the distance within the gap had narrowed to the point where the top had covered over with ice. There, I can get across there. It would be dangerous, but he should be able to ride the snow mobile over it.

  Sam turned around, preparing for the slow journey to the bottom of the hill. Something reflective caught his attention in the distance. He pulled up the binoculars to his eyes and searched the horizon. The Maria Helena rested at anchor, alone in the bay – then behind her, maybe another few miles out, he saw a second vessel. It was covered in yellow paint; probably a cruise ship.

  He put the binoculars away. I wonder if they too have responded to the call for help. Sam dismissed the casual thought from his mind as a sudden burst of wind gusted. It was so powerful it nearly knocked him off the hill.

  Sam looked at the snow mobile at the base of the hill. It was more than two hundred feet away. Behind it, a localized storm rapidly whipped up the previously clear sky into something dark and evil.

  Sam stared at the approaching monstrous wall of ice and snow. Where the hell did you come from!

  He started to run.

  Chapter Five

  Sam chided himself for not taking more caution. A snow storm in the Antarctic winter would kill quickly. The storm approached like a violent wave of destruction. He moved rapidly down the steep slope.

  At first he tentatively chose each large step down. Then as the storm closed in on him, he started to climb down at speed. Careful at first, Sam quickly took greater risks with each stride, until he was running down the steep hill.

  About two thirds of the way to the bottom, he lost his footing. It was a momentary mistake, which might end up taking his life. Sam’s left leg slid on the ice and to compensate he threw the bulk of his weight on his right. It was too much. He toppled over and started to roll down the steep slope.

  He gripped his snow pick in his right hand and tried to jam it into the snow – hard. The pick caught, but the momentum was too much and the handle ripped out from his hand. He started to slide like an uncontrolled toboggan, gaining momentum fast.

  At the bottom of the hill he slid to a stop in deep snow.

  Sam wiped the snow off his goggles. He waited for his eyes to adjust for a moment and then realized the storm was obscuring what little light had remained for winter. He stood up. Panicked, he looked for his snow mobile.

  His vision was reduced to five feet. Sam couldn’t see the snow mobile anywhere. He wore snow clothes designed for the sub-arctic weather. They were rated to conditions as low as minus forty degrees Fahrenheit. He zipped the jacket up to his eyes. He wore a ski mask underneath, but with the increased force of the wind, it did little to protect his face from the stinging shards of ice.

  He needed protection if he was going to survive the next few minutes, let alone the hour it would take for the storm to pass. Sam crouched down in the thick snow. Using only his gloved hands, he tried to dig a hole into the snow. His cave struck solid ice about two feet down. It wasn’t perfect, but it might still save his life.

  He huddled down with his face at the lowest point in the tiny snow cave until he reached something that resembled comfort. If the storm passed quickly, he would live. If not, he would freeze to death. It was that simple. Protecting himself as best he could Sam hoped like hell the storm would pass as quick as it began.

  The previous gray of the winter’s day turned to a constant darkness. Sam’s mind drifted in and out of consciousness. Remembering some of the good times and the bad, and wondering how it all ended here – no more than five miles from the warmth and safety of the Maria Helena.

  The storm raged for an unknown time. It could have been hours or days. Huddled up as low to the ground as he could manage, Sam had no way of telling the time.

  He wiped off the snow built up along his goggles. The storm wailed ferociously. Somewhere in the darkness, his eyes caught sight of something. Sam couldn’t quite tell what it was. He lost it a split second later. Then he saw the flicker of a strange glowing orange light. It was most likely a fanciful figment of his imagination.

  And it was getting closer to him.

  Sam’s heart pounded. He knew he was beginning to feel the symptoms of profound hypothermia. Despite his protective clothing the wind-chill ripped through and tore at his bones.

  “No, go away!” Sam wasn’t ready to welcome the bright light.

  He reached for his ice pick. Forgetting he’d lost it when he fell, Sam swung his arms up at the glowing light.

  “I’m not done yet!” he said, stupidly.

  The orange light then reached down with a giant hand and grabbed him. It lifted him up as though he weighed nothing at all. “I’ll be damned Sam. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you – if you go off doing something stupid on your own, you’re gonna get yourself killed.”

  “Tom?”

  “Who else would be stupid enough to come searching for you in an Antarctic blizzard?”

  Chapter Six

  Sam opened his eyes. He was in some sort of vehicle. His mind couldn’t instantly determine what or where it was. The headlights were on, but they barely penetrated the darkness. Windshield wipers swung back and forth. The blizzard was goin
g to bury them if they didn’t find shelter soon.

  “Can we make it back to the Maria Helena?” he asked.

  Tom shook his head. “No way, the wind is gusting towards us at 120 knots. There’s no way we’re going to be able to drive into it. We’re going to need to find somewhere to ride out the storm.”

  Sam thought about the landscape he saw from the top of the mountain. “I think I know a place.”

  “Where?” Tom asked.

  “The Pegasus science station. It’s just on the other side of this hill. If you keep it on your right until we round it, and then head due south, we’ll hit the research station.”

  Tom pressed the main starter switch and an engine began to whir below them. The entire vehicle lifted off the ground as though they were riding a fluffy cloud. “Sounds like a plan.”

  Sam grinned. Everything was going to be all right. “You got the hovercraft engine to work in this weather?”

  “Veyron did.”

  Tom threw the gear forwards and the hovercraft lurched ahead. It picked up speed; going with the wind instead of being thrashed by it like before. The base of the small ice mountain came into view, while the rest of it remained hidden by the storm.

  “Keep it on your right until we reach the other side,” Sam reminded him.

  “Gotcha, Sam.”

  A few minutes later they rounded the mountain. Tom turned the hovercraft due south and then increased power to full. They picked up speed. Designed to be used on water and sand, the hovercraft raced along the icy surface.

  Sam looked behind him, where a large electrical heating element had been added. Feeling the warmth on his back, he removed his gloves to absorb some of it. His hands burned as sensation returned. “I like what you’ve done to the hovercraft.”

  Tom turned his head to the right and looked at the glowing heating element. “Veyron’s idea. It wasn’t for our comfort though. He’s not that considerate. Says it has to stay on so long as we keep the hovercraft out here. Otherwise, the engine will freeze and we won’t be going anywhere.”

  “All the same, I appreciate it.”

  Sam felt himself relax. The warmth bringing a certain level of reassurance that everything was going to be okay.

  He closed his eyes.

  The loud bang was instantaneous.

  Sam felt the jarring all the way through his spine. “What the hell was that?”

  The hovercraft slowed, settled and then kept going. “I’ve got no idea! We lost contact with the ground for a while. Launched by one of the small mounds of ice I suppose. Landed pretty hard, but I think we’ll be okay.”

  Sam grinned. “Sorry. That was the chasm. I forgot to mention there’s a slight gap between the island of ice and the Antarctic coast.”

  “Right,” Tom shook his head. “Should I expect any more gaps?”

  “No. We should be good. We’ll reach the Pegasus station any minute now.”

  Tom touched the brakes and the hovercraft settled to a crawl. Directly in front of them, buried to its roofline with snow, was what they had crossed the southern ocean to reach – the Pegasus science station.

  Ordinarily, Sam guessed, the scientist would have taken it in turns to clear the front area of snow. It was an immediate bad sign that the snow had been left to build up.

  “This is it?” Tom asked.

  “I’m afraid so.”

  Tom flicked the power to off and the hovercraft sunk into the ground. “Any idea how to get in?”

  Sam put his gloves on. “Now we dig – for our lives.”

  Over the course of the hour the two men dug deep into the snow. By the end of it, Sam had cleared enough snow to reach the door. He pulled at it, and entered the French science station – Pegasus.

  Chapter Seven

  Sam pushed hard on the door. It was enough to slide through the gap and enter the science station. The building had a dome shaped ceiling and stretched about eighty feet long. There were four archways that led to other rooms. The lights were all switched to off.

  Sam found the light switch and flicked it to on. “Hello.”

  No response.

  He heard Tom huff as he squeezed his large, muscular frame through the narrow opening. Tom looked at him. “All this effort and nobody’s home?”

  Sam shrugged his shouldered. “I don’t know.”

  “Hello. Anyone still here?” Tom said loudly.

  Silence.

  Sam walked forward. “Come on. Let’s go see what we can find. Maybe they left a note or something?”

  “Okay.”

  Stepping further along the room it all appeared normal. A moment later he heard the automatic electric generator start up. “They must have it set to automatic when the amp-hours reached a certain level. Turning on the light switch must have activated it.”

  The first room was small with a second doorway about ten feet in. The room most probably served as a pressurized room to stop the cold air flooding the inside living quarters. Five full sets of snow clothes, including overalls, jackets, and boots all stood on their racks. Above each one was the owner’s name.

  “If their outside gear is in here, they must be home?” Sam said.

  Tom looked at the boots. They were clean and polished. He picked one of them up. The boot looked like it had barely been worn. The smell of black boot polish instantly brought back memories of basic training in the Corps. “I guess they’ve had a lot of time on their hands down here. The question is, if they’re here – why aren’t they answering?”

  “No idea. Let’s go find out.”

  Sam opened the next door and entered the main living room.

  Stepping further along the room it all appeared normal. It wasn’t huge, but it was big enough to be comfortable for the five scientists who were supposed to be working there. A small kitchenette with a kettle stood at the end of the room. Fold out camp chairs sat in a semicircle. A small bathroom was at the end of it. A bed hung from the ceiling like a hammock. Inside, a single book rested open. A single dog’s ear noting where the last reader paused. Sam picked it up. The Old Man and the Sea, by Earnest Hemmingway. He smiled. He’d read it as a kid, and felt a natural attraction towards it.

  Tom came back into the room. “There’s no one here. The food stores are packed with enough rations to keep a group of five men fed for months. The bathroom’s empty. There’s no sign of the scientists or where they went.”

  “Strange. Why would the scientists just leave?”

  “No idea. And while we’re at it. What did they leave with if they didn’t wear their snow protection gear?”

  “Any idea what they were studying here?”

  “No. The rooms are all virtually empty. They must have had laptops with them. They’re nowhere to be seen. Maybe they had to leave suddenly, and that was all they took with them.”

  “All right. What about their radio?”

  “What radio? I didn’t see any.”

  Sam walked back into the main living room and started opening up cupboards. “It must be somewhere here. They were able to radio for help when we were still in the Falkland Islands.”

  “Good point. I’ll have another look.”

  “It would be good to contact the Maria Helena and get word to them that we’re okay. We might be here a while before the weather clears up.”

  “I agree, but don’t sweat on it too much. I spoke with Veyron before I left and made him promise not to come looking for us if we don’t come back before the storm finishes. I told him we’d find somewhere to bunker down and ride out the worst of it.”

  Sam opened the fourth cupboard. A series of VHF and HF radios were bolted to the internal wall. “All the same, it will be good to let them know we’re safe in the Pegasus station.”

  “All right,” Tom said, “You let them know we’re okay. I’m going to go cover the hovercraft with some tarpaulins, then I’m going to raid their stores for something to eat.”

  Sam smiled. “Sounds good. See if you can find me some chocolate,
too.”

  He watched as Tom opened the door and disappeared into the store room. Sam picked up the VHF radio microphone. Switched to channel sixteen. “Maria Helena, this is the science station Pegasus. Are you receiving me?”

  No response.

  Sam increased the volume and adjusted the squelch. The static became louder. “Maria Helena. This is the Antarctic science station, Pegasus. Can you hear me?”

  He waited for a reply.

  The same constant, garbled, static whirred indecipherably from the radio. He was about to turn it off. I guess none of the radios are working out here. Sam thought about the first time he ever saw an Aurora Borealis. It was in Fairbanks, Alaska and his brother and he had gone on a team-building orienteering exercise in the wilderness. When the amazing night’s sky was filled with the strange and colorful phenomenon, he’d tried to radio his brother to find out if he could see it too. All he received was radio static. He recalled it had something to do with the high altitude ionization affecting the transmission of radio waves.

  Does the South Pole have an equivalent problem with its lights?

  He’d seen the Aurora Australis from the mountain earlier. He reached forward to turn off the radio, and then stopped. It wasn’t transmitting pure static. Although it appeared garbled, the sound had a distinct and repetitive nature to it.

  Has someone overlapped the radio channel with a constant message?

  Sam flicked to the next channel.

  It displayed the same repetitive crackling sound, and so did the next channel. He tried another three before he gave up.

  Could there be a subliminal message behind the static?

  If so, what is the message?

  Chapter Eight

  Tom walked into the room. He took one look at Sam’s face and knew something was wrong. It was pensive, and his usual curiosity appeared to have been replaced by a new worry. Sam had his head turned slightly to the left, with his ear right up against the radio speakers. His eyes were closed as though he was straining to hear the sound or recall a song.