The Antarcticans

by Suriano, James

  “Have you found anything publishable?” Noila asked.

  “Publishable?” Ruftan laughed and looked at Lucifer. “We don’t disclose our results. That would be a violation of our contract.”

  “Your contract with whom?” Noila asked cautiously.

  “You’ll meet them in Antarctica. No sense in going into a description now,” Lucifer said.

  The music and Arkita’s singing was pushed from the background and quickly increased in volume to fill the room. “Nothing comes from nothing. Ain’t that the way…” Her voice took on a throaty power that drowned out Noila’s next question.

  “Dessert is served,” Lucifer said. “Would you look at that architecture? The chefs’ talents continue to amaze me.”

  The dish was five interlocking pieces of candied pastry, with a column of flan rising up from the middle and capping out, supported by the rest of the dessert.

  “How on earth do you eat this?” Nazia asked.

  “It’s like a conversation, my dear, a delicate balance of force and agility,” Lucifer replied. He shaved a piece of the flan off the top and then, spoonful by spoonful, broke the dessert down, never letting it collapse, until there was an exact outline on the plate of the sugar left behind.

  When the song ended, Arkita retook her seat at the table and sampled the dessert. “You’re being far too evasive,” she told Lucifer. “I think the truth will let Noila make the right decision.”

  “I’ll go,” Noila said.

  “What?” Gavin glared at her, his forehead crinkled.

  “The work sounds like it could saves millions of lives,” Noila said.

  “You could save the whole race if you’re not careful with your enthusiasm,” Lucifer said with a laugh.

  “Is the whole race in danger?” Noila asked.

  “You tell me—you’re the scientist.”

  The lighting in the room grew brighter, and the pink-and-brown designs of the wallpaper were visible again. It occurred to Gavin that the room was under a constant state of surveillance, which increased his suspicion that he wasn’t ever going to be alone again.

  …

  Noila and Gavin were back in their quarters. Noila had stepped into the glass-enclosed shower and let her hair out of the braided bun she had arranged it in before dinner. She left the bathroom door open.

  “Honey, do you want to go see Joshua?” she called out.

  “Now?” he answered from the bedroom. He started opening his books on the leather-topped desk, intent on getting some work done before the night was over.

  “Yes, now. I have a meeting with Ruftan in the morning. He mentioned that I might be able to leave for Antarctica as soon as the day after tomorrow. I want to make sure I see Joshua in person and spend some time with him before I go.”

  “That hologram technology must have been impressive. I’ll have to see it later when my swirling mind isn’t making my stomach do the same.” Gavin walked into the bathroom and leaned against the sink, admiring his wife through the glass shower door. He loved the way her wet hair clung to her muscular shoulders. He always thought it was a great comment on her essence: her strong, brilliant mind held up by strong shoulders that merged with her soft, feminine body.

  “With the exception of being able to touch what’s on the other side, it appears to be the perfect human interface. Lucifer said that within a year, you’ll even be able to do that. Can you imagine?”

  She was soaping her breasts; Gavin felt himself getting aroused.

  “Remember what I said about Lucifer: he’s not on our side.”

  “I’m not going with Lucifer—I’m going with Ruftan. And he seems to be a respectable man. If the funding is coming from a place I don’t agree with, well, I guess that’s a philosophical problem I’ll have to work out in my own head. But saving lives is saving lives, right? “

  “Not if you’re endangering souls in the process,” Gavin shot back.

  “Okay, let’s not get into an argument.” Noila wiped the steam off the glass so she could see him. “So back to my original question: Joshua?”

  “Yes, as soon as we get done here, we’ll get dressed and head over,” he said.

  Gavin opened the door to the shower; he had taken off his clothes. He got in behind her, closed the door, and pressed up against her small, tight body. The perks of being married, he thought. Noila pushed her body back into his. Then she turned around and pulled him over to the shower seat and sat him down on it. She got on top of him, and as he slipped inside her, she let out a light gasp. The steam filled the bathroom and coated the glass; the only thing visible to Arkita, who was watching from behind the bathroom mirror, were Noila’s handprints on the steamy shower door. Arkita stepped back from the two-way glass in her own bathroom and pressed the button behind the faux soap dispenser on the wall, which turned the window back into a mirror, and picked up a tube of lipstick. She applied it generously to her lips. When she was done, she pressed her lips together

  “Mmmmm, mmmmm, mmmm,” she quietly said, shaking her head.

  A Ship Divided

  The music announced that Lucifer was entering through the golden doors. The amphitheater seats were filled, and everyone stood to applaud his entry. He made his way through the crowd, his lustrous blond hair bouncing as he walked through the aisles, greeting his guests and waving, his strong chest pushing against the breast of his snugly tailored white suit. His black, rigidly starched shirt, with its unbuttoned collar, showed off his fit physique. After many bows, he took his seat at the front and started the meeting. The front wall of theater, which all the seats faced, turned white then brought up an image of Lucifer’s beautiful, perfectly symmetrical face and shoulders.

  “Thank you all for coming. While we have very important matters to attend to, I hope you’re enjoying your stay aboard the Dragon. Remember, I designed it with you in mind.” He flashed a smile then took on a stern look.

  The audience applauded loudly.

  “We have vexing problems. The most-recent report from our Antarctican outpost has indicated that the increasing temperatures in the air and water have created an accelerated profile for the increase in sea levels as the ice melts. I don’t have to remind you that Antarctica holds ninety percent of the world’s ice and seventy percent of its freshwater.”

  France’s prime minister pressed the panel in her seat arm to indicate she wanted to speak. The French flag appeared on the screen next to Lucifer’s head. Lucifer deferred the screen to him.

  “France’s citizens are very concerned with this problem,” Prime Minister Bourcier said, “but we don’t have the resources to fund more stringent environmental controls.”

  The Chinese flag appeared next to him. The face of Vice Premier Dai Zhōu appeared. “We have committed billions of dollars to the cause, but our premier won’t endanger our economy by stopping the use of fossil fuels. Right now we don’t have an alternative to fuel our country.”

  Each country’s representative went one by one, explaining that they would like to help, but that either the person in attendance didn’t have the authority to commit their country to the radical environmental actions necessary to stop the warming, or that the detriment to the country was too great. Lucifer took the screen back.

  “I appreciate all your concerns,” he said. “I really do. I think what we’re failing to realize, however, is that this isn’t a choice. I haven’t gathered you here, by various means, to hear excuses; I’ve chosen each of you based on your power to make decisions. Some of you had to be convinced, and I’ll use that term lightly, as I believe blackmail and bribery are illegal in most of your jurisdictions. If our predictions are correct—and I have no reason to think otherwise—each of your countries, some more than others, will experience rises in sea levels that will cause unimaginable damage and destruction.” He looked around at each of them. “My proposal is to stop the use of all oil and coal immediately, everywhere in the world.”

  “You can’t be serious. Stopping all air
travel, automobiles, the heating of homes, industry? You’ll grind the world to a halt,” British Prime Minister Niles Archer argued.

  “Maybe that’s what the world needs, a distinct slowing down,” Lucifer offered.

  “What about your ship? Are you willing to give all this up?” Archer asked, gesturing around him.

  “The Dragon is powered by solar and nuclear power. I’m a being of my word. But thank you for your concern. How many of you will sign the treaty? It will be kept quiet—the media won’t know, and most of the servants of your governments won’t know. And then we’ll swiftly execute the policy.”

  First the Cambodian flag appeared, followed by the flags of Thailand, Spain, Australia, Finland, Norway, Sweden, Iceland, Denmark, and then it stopped.

  “Sixty countries are represented here, and only nine of you are willing? China? The US? India? Where are you?”

  The amphitheater was silent. No one moved or whispered.

  “I’ll set a date to reconvene. Maybe after we see some of the destruction, some of you will change your minds. Vice President Anderson of the United States, I have to say this is a cowardly move on your part. You’re always going on and on, claiming the health, safety, and prosperity of your citizens are your highest priorities, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. Must be an election year.” The screen went blank, signaling the end of the meeting.

  The participants gathered in small groups and discussed matters of their personal agendas. Many of the people used this meeting as another politicking opportunity rather than the purpose for which it was intended. Lucifer knew this, but the progress he had hoped to make was worth the side conversations and time spent. He made his way up the steps toward the door, passing Vice President Anderson, who was speaking with Prime Minister Archer. He nodded at them both without a smile.

  “I expected more from you,” the vice president told Lucifer.

  “I echo the sentiment,” Lucifer replied.

  “You’re a power-hungry fool.”

  “Mr. Vice President”—Lucifer leaned into him and whispered in his ear—“if you think you’re in your position for a reason other than me, you’re mistaken. Be careful not to undo the political power you’ve worked so hard to amass.” He patted him on the shoulder and continued through the doors, not glancing back.

  Cold Good-byes

  To a limited degree, Gavin was learning his way around the Dragon. When he and Noila exited the lift on Deck Seven, he knew which hallway to take then recognized the doors to the medical research center. Instead of the attendant who had sat behind the desk the first time he was here to meet Dr. Cristofari, a holographic male in white medical scrubs was being projected into the chair.

  “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Pennings. Please follow the floor illuminations to your son’s room,” he told them.

  The glossy travertine floor tiles turned a hue of green, each with an image of Joshua and an arrow pointing in the direction they should walk. Noila recognized the picture of him, which had been taken last year at school. They followed the image through the hallway, past patients’ rooms. The experiments that had been running the last time Gavin was here had taken place in dimly lit rooms, and now only a few rooms were illuminated by the glow of patients who were looking at computer screens. When they reached Joshua’s room, the door slid open. Noila wasn’t sure they were in the right place. There was someone on the bed, awake, with his or her entire body and face covered in an opaque white film. There were two holes for nostrils with small devices carefully screwed into place.

  “Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad,” Joshua said.

  “Oh, honey, it’s you. Can you see us? I can’t see your eyes,” Noila said, relieved they hadn’t wandered into someone else’s room.

  “Yeah, it’s kinda cool how I see things. It’s almost like you’re on a TV screen.”

  Gavin and Noila exchanged worried glances and sat down next to the bed.

  “What have you been doing since you’ve been here?” Noila asked. “The only news we get of you is that you are in good condition and that your vital signs are normal. Not very comforting,”

  “Hard to explain. They checked me in; I saw the doctor. They got me showered, and then they removed all the hair from my body.”

  Noila reached out and touched his head, looking worried. “Did they shave your head too?”

  “Yeah. The whole process was embarrassing, but they said I couldn’t have any hair, ’cause it interrupts their signals or something. Then they put this suit on me. Since then, I’ve just been watching these images that come and go from my vision. I can’t really control them. Sometimes they wake me up, and then I’m not sure if I fall asleep or what. It’s weird. But Margie has been here with me, keeping me company, so it’s fine.”

  Noila looked at Gavin and shook her head when he mentioned Margie. The white fabric suddenly turned black around his head. Green numbers and statistics appeared from the dark background and scrolled over the surface of his head.

  “I’m okay, guys. Um, Margie says I have to go now. I have to go look at pictures.” He laid his head back against the bed and exhaled.

  “Do you want us to leave?” Noila asked.

  No answer.

  Noila leaned over and kissed her son on the head. The suit left a metallic taste on her lips. She put her arm in Gavin’s, and the images appeared on the floor again to lead them out. They took the lift to the upper deck so they could walk around in the outside air. The biting ocean night was abrupt when they stepped off the lift.

  “What are they doing to him?” Gavin asked.

  “I intend to find out tomorrow. It appears there’s some sort of mental reprogramming happening. Heaven knows what they’re putting into his head,” Noila said.

  “This is a strange place. Are you sure you want to go on that expedition to Antarctica? Who knows who you’ll be trapped with down there.”

  “Stop being so unsure of everything. Let’s just do this and know it’s for Joshua. The rest we can pray about.”

  Gavin nodded. “Fine, fine. But you know how much I hate uncertainty. So do you know for sure when the ship will sail?”

  “They wouldn’t tell me. They just told me to be ready, and someone will let me know when it’s time. Apparently we’re headed south right now to rendezvous with the Viking. From there, depending on where we meet them, it’s about a twelve-day trip. I’m actually looking forward to it. I haven’t been trapped in isolation with a bunch of other scientists since grad school. There’s something about everyone working toward the same goal that’s really invigorating. I know you feel it in your work too. Sometimes when you’re away on mission trips, and you come back and tell me about the collective push for the ministry and whatever you’re building or trying to accomplish there—well, it’s always reminded me of my work. In all the craziness with Joshua, I think it’ll do me some good to get away. I’ve felt like I’ve lost who I am, and all his problems are an overwhelming force that’s swept who we all are out to sea.”

  They were leaning against the railing, looking down at the water rushing by.

  “You don’t remember what today is?” Noila turned her head and looked at him.

  Gavin shook his head. “No, should I?”

  “Nineteen years.”

  “Damn, well, I forget at least every other year, don’t I?” he said lightly.

  “And here I was thinking that was what our impromptu shower scene was about,” she said with a laugh.

  “Happy anniversary.” Gavin looked at his watch. “We still have a few hours left.”

  Captain Clark

  The next few days bled together in a collection of visits to Joshua’s room, where most of the time he was speaking to someone neither Noila nor Gavin could see. Gavin relaxed on the lounge deck, did research in the ship’s library, and used the conference facilities to communicate with his church. Dr. Cristofari repeatedly reassured Gavin and Noila that the treatment was progressing well, and although she couldn’t guarantee anything, she had
high hopes for Joshua.

  The screen in Gavin and Noila’s room suddenly flashed. Noila got up from the couch where she sat reading next to Gavin and answered the call. A middle-aged man with a shaved head and a gray cable-knit wool sweater appeared in the room. If Noila didn’t know better, she would have thought he was actually standing there.

  “We’ll dock with your ship in two hours. Go to the cargo bay on Deck Three. Don’t pack any clothing other than your undergarments.”

  Noila started to protest.

  “Trust me. You don’t have the right clothing for the Antarctic.”

  He put his hand up in a stationary wave, and his image disappeared.

  “Well, I guess that takes care of packing,” Noila said, as she walked over to her suitcase, which she had been rearranging. She pulled out her panties and bras and shoved them into a tote bag. “That’s just creepy, images appearing in your room. This whole ship creeps me out. I feel like someone’s always watching us.” She paused for a long moment. “Are you going to be okay here for the time I’m gone? It sounds like it’ll be at least two months with travel time. Who knows how long it’ll take for Joshua to get better. Please promise me you won’t leave until the treatment is finished. I don’t want him here alone. Don’t get me wrong—I’m grateful for everything they’re doing, but I can’t say I trust them. The whole situation feels like it’s been forced on us,” she said in rapid fire.

  “I’ll handle it. Everything will be okay. I do, however, reserve the right to pull him out of here.” Gavin put his book down and sat on the edge of the couch, resting his arms on his thighs.

  “Don’t, Gavin…I don’t know that much about psychiatry, but remember, he’s been through everything, and nothing has helped. We’re kind of at our last try here, and I don’t want to lose him.” Tears began to fill her eyes.