They were on the edge of the airstrip, a wall of ice towering above them, a fine snow drifting around their booted feet, their eyes watering with cold. A helicopter was taking off, its rotors whipping the snow up, its image reflected in the wall of ice as it climbed past the cliff. They walked across to Rocky’s airplane, an old and battered transport, its green fuselage decorated with pinups and obscene comments. The plane was resting on long skis, the door open, its ladder down, and a couple of men were standing in the doorway, their fur collars turned up.
‘All set?’ Rocky asked.
‘Smooth as butter,’ one of the men said. ‘But we better take off pretty quick. I think they’re getting suspicious.’
‘Norwegian shitheads,’ Rocky said.
‘They’re okay,’ the man said. ‘It’s just they’ve had a few complaints from the Russians. Those bastards said you’d been buzzing them.’
Rocky giggled and shook his head from side to side. ‘Lord have mercy,’ he said. ‘Them Russkies aren’t telling any lies. I buzzed Novolazarevskaya.’
The man in the airplane grinned. ‘That’s what you did, Rocky. The Russians said you were lower than their radar, almost pissing on top of them.’
Rocky giggled again. ‘What the fuck?’ he said happily. ‘A man needs a little action now and then to keep boredom at bay.’
‘You were stoned,’ the other man said.
‘Happy days, I was stoned.’
‘Some day they’re gonna boot you in the ass and send you back to Alaska.’
‘Some day,’ Rocky said.
He climbed up into the airplane, followed closely by Stanford, and they made their way along to the cockpit, past the yellow snow tractor. Stanford heard the ladder rattling, the door shrieking and then slamming, the sound reverberating throughout the airplane and making his ears ring.
‘Here we go,’ Rocky said. ‘You can take the co-pilot’s chair. The guys there, they’ll sit in the back and look after the tractor.’
Stanford nodded and took his chair, strapping himself in, surveying the control panel, the mass of switches and indicators in front of him, above him, to his right, the engineer’s chair behind him. Rocky coughed and pursed his lips, flicked a couple of switches, while Stanford looked out through the windshield at the alien world before him. All white. Everything. The sun flashed off the ice. The airplane suddenly bellowed and shuddered, prior to take-off.
‘There’s no air traffic control,’ Rocky said. ‘That’s the blessing of this burg. They just tell you what time you can leave, and then you get up and go. Hold on to your seat.’
The plane moved forward slowly, the airstrip running between banks of snow, a broad lane narrowing down to a pinpoint at the base of the cliff face. The cliff was covered in ice, the sun flashing off its face, the peaks sharply defined against a sky that changed from white haze to blue. The plane shuddered and roared, picked up speed, started racing, passing snow tractors and sun-reflecting radar bowls that were framed by the glistening snow. Then the airstrip was racing past on both sides, the white-faced cliff spreading outward, becoming higher as the plane rushed straight at it as if about to crash into it. Stanford held onto the sides of his chair, took a deep breath, released it, then Rocky giggled and the plane jumped off the runway, going into a steep ascent. Stanford kept hold of his chair. The plane was shuddering and rattling. He saw the face of the cliff, the blinding eye of the sun, then the glistening white peaks passed below and the plane leveled out.
‘Jesus!’ Stanford whispered.
‘Hi, ho,’ Rocky said. ‘Nothing like a little bit of action to get rid of the cobwebs.’
The panorama was immense, a sweeping vista of pack ice, snow falls and glinting glaciers, low mountain peaks framed against a sky of unbelievable clarity. Nothing moved in that landscape, nothing broke its frozen silence; the fierce light of the sun poured down upon it and was then devoured by it. Earth and sky became one – the sky reflected the land below – and the rays of the sun were distorted to form luminous arches. All white. Everything. The towering glaciers were like prisms. The light flashed and raced outward in silvery-white lines that merged with the dazzling white snowfalls.
‘Queen Maud Land,’ Rocky said. ‘We’re flying along the zero meridian. We should reach Neuschwabenland pretty quickly, if we don’t get lost first.’
‘What happens if we keep going?’
‘We cross the South Pole. Then north becomes south, east becomes west, and we have us a smoke and say our prayers until we run out of gasoline.’
‘Don’t get lost,’ Stanford said.
‘I’ll try not to,’ Rocky said. ‘We’ll circle over the mountains, we’ll try to find that hidden colony, then we’ll turn back and land five miles away and go in with the snow tractor, just like you suggested.’
‘You’re coming with me?’ Stanford asked.
‘Damned right,’ Rocky said. ‘I’m not giving you this trip for free, pal – I want to see all them saucers.’
‘It might be difficult,’ Stanford said. ‘There’s supposed to be a force field around the area. It’s designed to make engines malfunction and bring down the aircraft.’
‘It might be true,’ Rocky said. ‘A lot of planes were lost out there. That’s why we’re not allowed to go there anymore – and why I lied to those shithead Norwegians.’
‘So what do we do?’ Stanford asked.
‘We just stay a high altitude. That means we won’t see too much, but it’s better than nothing. We’ll land near the mountains anyway. We’ll go in on the snow tractor. We just have to see that circle of ice caps to know where we’re going.’
Stanford looked down, saw the dazzling all-white landscape, the peaks of glaciers merging with the snow, revealed only by flashing light. He felt tense and excited, a pulse beating in his stomach, closed his eyes and thought of where he had come from and still couldn’t believe it. He had left the past behind him. He could never return. He had found out too much, was a threat, and now would have to be wiped out. Stanford opened his eyes again. A vast white plain filled his vision. Looking at it, he realized that he had come to the end of the road. There was nowhere else to run to. There was nowhere to hide. If he managed to return from the Antarctic, he would find no safe place. Finally, he was trapped. He was one of the hunted. He was at the lowest point on Earth and could travel no farther. So what about Epstein? What would he do if he found his old friend? Contracts would be out on both of them and the hunters would find them. Stanford sighed and looked down. He saw a boundless white terrain. It was a wilderness of drifting snow and ice, and might yet be his resting place. Stanford didn’t really care. It didn’t matter anymore. He saw the white world sweeping out to meet the sky, and suddenly felt a great peace.
‘Holy fuck!’ Rocky said.
Stanford followed his pointing finger, saw the radiant blue sky, great circles of white light spreading out to form luminous patterns. He was used to that by now, knew the tricks of the Antarctic, but leaned forward and looked more intently at what Rocky was excitedly indicating. Something flashed and blinked off. The rings of light framed the blue sky. He kept looking and he saw the flash again about nine o’clock high. It came and went in an instant. Before he could blink, it appeared again. This time it was much farther down: a brief flash and then nothing.
‘Over there,’ Rocky said, pointing. ‘It’s changed position… Jesus Christ, now there’s two of them!’
Stanford followed his pointing finger. He saw two pulsating lights. They were west of the airplane, flying level with it, pacing it, two dimesized pulsating white lights in the light-streaked blue sky. Stanford shook his head to clear it. The two lights were now three. The third light had just abruptly winked on, as if it had always been there. Rocky whooped with excitement. The lights were flying in formation. They formed the three points of a triangle and kept abreast of the airplane.
‘It could be nothing,’ Stanford said. ‘It might just be atmospheric phenomena.’
‘
No way,’ Rocky said. ‘Those lights are moving! Those motherfuckers are pacing us… There they go… Wow!’
The three lights broke apart, moving slowly, serenely, one ascending and one descending, leaving the other one between them, forming a long, vertical line. It was a precise, vertical line, pacing the plane, pulsating brightly, the three lights about a hundred feet apart, one on top of the other. Rocky whooped with excitement. Stanford just stared, entranced. The lights pulsated against the vivid blue sky and outshone the bright sunlight.
Then two suddenly exploded – not exploded: disappeared – were suddenly over and under the airplane as two large, silvery disks. The plane vibrated violently. It was sandwiched between the saucers. The saucers glittered above and below the plane and were approximately a hundred feet wide. Then the plane just cut out. Rocky wrestled with the controls. Glancing down, Stanford saw a curving stretch of metallicgray; looking up, he saw the base of the other saucer, a black hole right above him. It was a stark, total blackness, denying definition, so deep that it was more like a hole than anything solid. Stanford blinked and it was gone. The silent plane plummeted downward. Stanford saw the glistening snow, the glinting peaks of the glaciers, two lights streaking away to join a third, the whole sky disappearing. The plane kept diving and Rocky cursed, fighting vainly with the controls, then the engine suddenly roared back into life and the plane leveled out. Stanford saw the sky again, swinging down and then steadying; he saw the three lights streaking toward a line of mountains and then blinking out.
‘Holy shit!’ Rocky said.
‘What the hell’s happening here?’ One of the crew had come up from the rear, wiping blood from his nose. ‘We nearly lost the snow tractor. I nearly got my head smashed. What the hell are you doing, diving like that? That area back there was wild.’
‘We had an accident,’ Rocky lied.
‘What the hell does that mean? This fucking airplane went as dead as a doornail and damned nearly killed us.’
‘It’s okay,’ Rocky said. ‘I made a little mistake. Stop worrying. It won’t happen again. Don’t get your balls in a knot.’
‘You’re fucking crazy,’ the man said.
‘That’s right, I’m fucking crazy. Now get your fat ass back to the rear and keep your eyes on that tractor.’
The man vanished back inside. Stanford stared straight ahead. Rocky pulled the plane up, climbing gradually, gaining altitude, glancing at Stanford, his eyes large with excitement, beads of sweat on his forehead. Stanford glanced down at the mountains, saw the snowcovered peaks, stark shadows breaking up the white cliffs where great canyons divided them.
‘That’s it,’ Rocky said. ‘And that’s where the saucers went. You were right, holy shit, you were right: they’re hiding somewhere down there.’
‘You better keep climbing,’ Stanford said.
‘That’s just what I’m doing. Though I don’t know if it’ll do any good if those saucers come back. Did you see how fast they moved? And they definitely killed our engine. The plane was dead, but it just kept flying as if by pure magic. I still can’t buy it. I just don’t believe it’s possible. But those saucers killed our engine, they somehow carried us with them, then they just flew away and let us drop – and I don’t understand that.’
Rocky shook his head in wonder, pulled the plane up, kept climbing, leveled out when he felt that they were safe, muttering under his breath. They were approaching the mountains, flying high above the peaks, seeing sunlight flashing on and off the ice to form faint, shifting rainbows. There was more color there: the peaks were tinged with pink and green, the light beating off the ice to make arches of yellow and gold. The mountain peaks were free of snow, thrusting up to the sky, a white haze that faded into violet and then became azure blue. Stanford felt overwhelmed, his eyes glued to the terrain, seeing the shadows of canyons and ravines as black scars on the glaring white.
‘Fuck.’ Rocky said. ‘We’re too high. We won’t see a damned thing.’
They were above the mountains now, turning west and flying along them, looking down on ink-black shadow and flashing light, an indication of ravines and ice peaks, a ribboned scar through pure white. Then the plane started coughing, started spluttering and vibrating, dipped and then picked up again, its engine malfunctioning. Rocky cursed and glanced at Stanford. They both looked down at the mountains. They saw the ribbon of shadow and light splitting in two, the two ribbons rippling outward and then returning to form a dark circle.
‘That’s it!’ Rocky bawled.
‘Yes,’ Stanford said, ‘that’s it. And we must be on the edge of the force field. You’d better go higher.’
‘Jesus Christ, can you see it?’
‘Yes, Rocky, I can see it. Now let’s get the hell out of her and land somewhere safe.’
Rocky shook his head from side to side, started changing direction, circling around and then heading back the way they had come, muttering under his breath. Stanford looked down, saw the circle passing under them, the boundless white terrain all around it, a blank, frozen wilderness. Then he blinked and looked again, saw two lights fanning out, streaking up from the glaciers in opposite directions, flying apart at incredible speed and then just disappearing. Stanford looked down at the mountain, saw nothing and then looked up, saw a light shooting away to the west and then just blinking out.
Stanford couldn’t believe it. Turning his head to look east, he saw a light ascending vertically, stopping abruptly, then racing toward him. He shouted a warning to Rocky. He didn’t know what that light was. It ballooned into a massive, flaring disk that shot past them and disappeared. The plane shrieked and rocked violently, was bathed in a blinding radiance, the light racing away and shrinking in the west and then shooting up vertically. The plane settled down again. Rocky glanced wildly around him. The same man came out of the rear and said, ‘Hey, what the fuck?’ and then the light from the west raced back again and shot past and was gone. ‘Lord Almighty!’ Rocky said. A light shot out of the east and then flared up and shot by them and disappeared. The man behind them was thrown sideways. The lights exploded over the plane and passed each other and disappeared on both sides. The man behind them was cursing. Equipment shot off the shelves and flew around and formed a shocking cacophony. Rocky fought with the controls. Stanford glanced east and west. The lights were pinpoints in the distance, flying at incredible speed, suddenly ballooning above the plane as massive silvery disks, making the plane rock, then racing away in opposite directions, becoming pinpoints again.
‘Holy shit! We can’t beat them!’
Rocky fought with the controls, trying to keep his plane steady, but was defeated every time the disks shot past and stopped as pinpoints some miles away. The plane was shrieking, rocking wildly, the holding bay now in chaos, the man behind them bawling incoherently as he rolled on the floor. Stanford looked east and west, saw the pinpoints of light, blinked and saw the huge silvery disks expanding overhead, shrinking. The plane rocked even more. It was coughing and spluttering. The disks raced back and forth, from east to west, and kept passing each other.
Stanford observed them, amazed. He hardly thought of the bucking plane. He was fascinated by the speed and capability of the two flying saucers. They raced in and shot away. Stanford tried to see them properly. He put his head back and looked straight above him, but it didn’t help much. The flying saucers were too fast. They passed faster then he could blink. He saw nothing but a flaring silvery mass that divided and disappeared. Then he looked east and west. He saw the pinpoints of light. They ascended vertically, then descended again and then were spread out above him. The plane rocked when they passed, its engine spluttering on and off, and the two men in the holding bay were bawling as equipment fell on them.
‘We’re going down!’ Rocky bawled.
The horizon rose above the cockpit, the white plains spreading out, sunlight flashing on and off the iced peaks around the edge of the mountains. Rocky tried to pull the plane up, struggling with the contro
l column, cursing as the plane spiraled downward, heading straight for the mountains. The flaring light fanned out above them, seemed to boil through the cockpit, disappeared as the plane shrieked and shook and went out of control. The disks appeared out of nowhere, this time passing over and under before shooting away. Stanford was stunned. The disks had sandwiched the falling plane, had passed so close he thought they would crush it, and again were mere pinpoints in the distance. The plane spluttered and kept falling. The shadowed mountains spun below them. Rocky screamed a stream of vile abuse as the mountains rushed up at them.
First the sky, then the white plains, then the spinning ink-black shadows, then the flashing of glaciers and ice caps and the deep, jagged canyons. The plane kept nose-diving, its engine spluttering, then dying, the mountains spreading out and then spinning and becoming a jigsaw. Rocky screamed his abuse. The men were bawling in the rear. Stanford looked down, mesmerized, seeing light-reflecting ice, the great snowfalls leading into the canyons of brown earth and ocher rock. It spread out and spun around them. Walls of ice shot up on all sides. Dazzling light flared up and swept through the cockpit and then became darkness.
The plane lurched and leveled out, raced along an ice-free canyon. A glowing disk, about a hundred feet wide, was keeping pace just below it. Stanford looked down, blinked a few times, then looked up. There was another enormous disk above the plane, a black, silver-edged whirlpool. The plane wasn’t making a sound. The saucers made a whipping noise. They were so close to the plane, they almost touched it, and somehow they were drawing it onward.
Then the black hole was gone. The sky exploded above them. The plane roared back to life and climbed steeply toward the snow and then it was out on its own again. It left the canyon far below. There was no sign of the saucers. The plane leveled out and raced across a gleaming ice cap that surmounted a snow-covered mountain ridge. Rocky whooped and grinned wildly and grabbed the control column. Stanford glanced down and saw a round shadow racing over the ice cap. ‘Shit, no!’ Rocky howled. Stanford jerked his head back. Looking up, he saw a dime-sized, glowing disk, growing bigger, descending.
GENESIS (Projekt Saucer) Page 59