by Perrin Briar
“And he took a pair of tanks with him,” Kate said.
“Come on, guys,” Daniel said, throwing up his hands. “How many times do we have to go through this? He just stepped out.”
“Step out… in freezing cold temperatures,” Carl said. “That makes a lot of sense.”
“He might have just wanted to set up a distraction,” Daniel said. “A diversion.”
“A diversion for who?” Carl said. “We keep going over this, and you never explain why the doctor would want to hide something like this from us.”
“He’s a genius,” Daniel said. “How are we supposed to know?”
“Genius is as genius does,” Carl said, nodding as if that meant something. “But I still don’t buy it.”
Hamish edged closer to the hole in the ice. The frigid cold water below rose and fell gently, sloshing against the crust. Its true thickness was lost beneath the water level. There was no telling how deep it went.
“A horrible way to die,” Hamish said.
“One of the worst,” Kate said. “You would literally freeze to death.”
“Why would someone choose to die like that?” Hamish said.
“As good a way to die as any, I suppose,” Carl said.
“No,” Hamish said. “I don’t think it is.”
“What do you mean?” Kate said.
“Well, we’re out in the middle of nowhere, presumably there are lots of ways you could kill yourself,” Hamish said. “Why do it in the most difficult and painful way? I assume it doesn’t happen immediately. It’ll be slow and drawn-out.”
“It would,” Daniel said with a nod. “But not so long if you didn’t wear all the proper equipment. That’s why we’re here. We’ve been scouring the water for any signs of his body.”
“Any luck yet?” Hamish said.
“No,” Daniel said. “We haven’t found any signs he was down there.”
“We’re not likely to either,” Carl said.
“What do you mean?” Hamish said.
“You need to do your homework on the Antarctic,” Carl said. “The Antarctic is a landmass, not made of pure frozen ice like the Arctic. This means there are frozen rivers and lakes underneath the ice. They still move, admittedly often slowly, but they still move, and it’s that current that would have carried Dr. Scott’s body away. He’d have been taken out to sea and we’d never see him again.”
“It’s not possible he could have just slipped?” Hamish said.
“And accidentally remove his coat and boots while he was at it?” Carl said. “Which magically stored themselves in the cupboard too? Only if you can bring yourself to believe in fairytales.”
“But still,” Hamish said. “Why commit suicide this way? He could have just gone for a long walk, like the other famous Scott, and never come back.”
“Because it doesn’t leave a trace,” Kate said, looking at the others. The thought had just dawned on her. “Right? He’d get taken away, and the specimen he took with him.”
“No one would know where you’d gone or how you’d have done it?” Hamish said.
“Think about it,” Kate said. “You’d lose the body and all the evidence associated with it. The real question is, why?”
“Why what?” Daniel said.
“Why would he want no sign of his body to remain?” Kate said. “He donated his body to science years ago. He would have wanted them to have it. Instead, he disposes of it so no one can ever find it.”
“Maybe he changed his mind,” Daniel said.
Carl rolled his eyes at him.
“Do you think that’s likely?” he said.
“It’s possible, isn’t it?” Daniel said.
“So, he committed suicide in a way to make sure no one found his body,” Hamish said. “As Kate said, the real question is: what made him decide to commit suicide in the first place?”
“Maybe he discovered he was sick and wanted to end his life clean,” Carl said.
“Sure,” Daniel said. “Maybe he decided he didn’t want the help of his world-famous friends to cure him of his illness so he could carry on doing the job he’d dedicated his life to.”
“So he’s only presumed missing,” Hamish said. “He might still be alive somewhere.”
Daniel nodded.
“That’s what I’ve been saying,” he said.
“Anywhere else on the world, possibly, yes,” Kate said. “But out here in these conditions? No, I don’t think so.”
“It’s a mystery, all right,” Carl said.
And it was one that would soon involve them all.
Z-MINUS: 5 hours 42 minutes
Hamish sat at his desk, bored to tears. Kate had been called away and couldn’t complete her tour. Hamish had spent the past few hours going through the files on the computer and desk in an attempt to put them into something resembling order. Dr. Scott may have been a genius, but organization clearly wasn’t a strong point.
Without windows, the office Hamish was sat in could have been an office in a building anywhere. That’s if you could avoid all the morgue-like cupboards behind you, which Hamish certainly couldn’t. Every time he turned round he thought there was going to be someone’s undead eyes staring back at him.
Hamish sighed and turned back to the monitor.
“Hey,” Kate said.
She stood in his doorway. The world had brightened.
“Hey,” Hamish said.
“Have you seen enough of these blank walls yet?” Kate said.
“What other choice do I have?” Hamish said.
“Plenty,” Kate said. “Follow me. I have yet to give you the full nickel tour.”
“I thought you already showed me around?” Hamish said.
“I did,” Kate said. “But not the outside. Or the other sheds.”
They went to the changing room at the end of the corridor and put on their winter best. The sweat didn’t smell so bad this time. Perhaps Hamish had gotten used to it, or he had a cold coming on and his blocked nose had reduced its effect on him. He was sweating and toasty in no time.
“Come on,” Kate said.
She led Hamish toward the third shed. It was green and worn. It was set back slightly from the others. They entered, and Hamish was once again bathed in warmth. But this one was earthy, and smelled thickly of soil. The air was wet, well on its way to condensation.
“Don’t take your coat off,” Kate said. “We’ll only be here a minute.”
They entered the room and approached a large door. They pushed it open. The sight took Hamish’s breath away.
They were standing in a large greenhouse, something you would not expect to see at the end of the world. The walls were made of glass. Sunlight filtered into the room and bathed the greenery. A complex series of pipes ran over the plants, releasing a soft mist spray. Some were saplings, others fully-grown and bearing fruit and vegetables. Two people walked amongst the plants, wearing only T-shirts smudged with dirt.
Kate plucked a couple cherry tomatoes and tucked them in her pocket.
“Hey,” Kate said, approaching the pair.
“Here comes trouble,” Jeff said.
“What do you mean?” Kate said. “I’m nothing but sweetness and light.”
“Trouble’s always soon to follow when you have that grin on your face,” Jeff said.
“I can’t help what trouble gets up to,” Kate said.
Jeff rolled his eyes.
“Who’s this?” Lindsey said.
“This is Hamish,” Kate said.
“Hamish,” Jeff said. “Nice to meet you.”
He extended a thick hand with dirt under the nails. Hamish shook it. It was about the same size as Hamish’s gloved hand.
“How was your trip?” Jeff said.
“Not bad, thanks,” Hamish said.
“Our trip over was awful,” Lindsey said. She nodded at Jeff. “He gets seasick.”
“Can you blame me with the sea rolling the way it was?” Jeff said.
�
��Calm as a pond, it was,” Lindsey said.
“A raging tempest,” Jeff said.
“Now you’re in for it,” Lindsey said. “You’ve set him off on one.”
“I’m not ‘off on one’,” Jeff said. “I’m merely telling the story as it happened.”
“As you recall it happened,” Lindsey said.
There was something somehow rehearsed about the argument. Kate must have been aware of its regular route and hastily interrupted.
“Can we borrow a ski?” Kate said.
Jeff turned his eye on Kate, looking her up and down, as if suspecting something afoot.
“You remember what happened the last time I let you have a ski?” he said.
“The ground was uneven,” Kate said. “It wasn’t my fault.”
“So the guilty always say,” Jeff said. “What’s the emergency this time? Need a fresh breath of air? Because the ski shed certainly doesn’t need another air hole.”
“No, no,” Kate said. “Nothing like that. I want to show Hamish Betsy.”
“He hasn’t seen Betsy yet?” Lindsey said.
“As you can see,” Kate said. “It’s an emergency.”
Jeff pursed his lips and then nodded.
“All right,” he said. “That sounds emergency enough to me.”
He reached into his pocket. He feigned tossing the key to Kate.
“Make sure to bring her back in one piece,” he said.
“I will,” Kate said.
Jeff tossed the key to Kate.
“Take number one,” he said. “She’s topped up.”
“Thanks, Jeff,” Kate said. “Come on, Hamish!”
Come on, Hamish! All at once Hamish was twenty years younger, and following Kate through the woods behind their street on a new adventure.
“What is it?” Hamish said. “What’s Betsy?”
“You’ll see,” Kate said with a giggle.
The icy wind bit deep into Hamish the moment he stepped outside. He was thankful they would soon be heading inside again. They headed for the middle shed.
It looked to be the oldest of all the structures, its wood worn and splintered. Kate used the key Jeff had given her to unlock the padlock on the chain that restrained the two front doors. They were not especially strong doors, and Hamish had no doubt the chain was much tougher. Anyone wishing to get inside would simply have to break down the doors. It would leave you open to the elements, but you would be inside. The truth was, the elements were the strongest defense available anyway.
The little light that filtered through the small windows and holes along the fringes did little to brighten the room, and nothing at all to illuminate the corners, which were steeped in shadow. It made Hamish feel nervous. Anything could be inside them. He’d seen The Thing too many times to completely trust the darkness in a landscape such as this.
Kate approached the smaller of the two black lumps in the middle of the room and pulled a cover back, revealing a jet ski. Presumably the one beside it was simply a larger version.
“Is this Betsy?” Hamish said.
Kate threw her head back and let out a laugh that tinkled like a melting icicle. It was high and danced in Hamish’s ears.
“No,” Kate said. “This isn’t Betsy.”
She moved to the back of the room and fiddled with something that rattled. Hamish suspected it was another chain, though he couldn’t see it. Then Kate went to one of the dark shadowed corners and came out with a pair of helmets. She handed one to Hamish and put the other on her head. Kate got on the front of the jet ski.
“Hop on,” she said.
She didn’t have to tell Hamish twice. He shoved his helmet on and jumped on behind her. She felt warm in his arms. He let himself believe they were a couple, heading out into the countryside for a nice drive… in frigid cold temperatures. Underneath the smell of sweat he could make out her perfume. It drove his senses wild.
Smell was said to be the strongest sense to stimulate the mind’s memories. It certainly worked for Hamish now. It contained the memories of them together in their youth, of long walks and tranquil places, and the overwhelming pursuit of adventure in their own backyards. That was the amazing thing about being a kid: you could do anything because you believed anything was possible. Life hadn’t beaten reality into you yet and you were left alone to dream and play and yes, fall in love.
He gripped Kate tighter as she turned the jet ski’s engine on. She must have felt him holding her tight, but she made no complaint.
The jet ski’s engine roared like a powerful motorcycle engine. Its tremors rose up his legs and back. Kate took a moment, adjusting something or other on the jet ski’s controls. She twisted the throttle and the jet ski slowly edged forward. Hamish leaned forward and back, depending on how the jet ski was moving, trying to keep balance.
They were moving toward the back wall. Hamish wanted to speak in Kate’s ear, that they were going to collide with it. But he didn’t. She knew what she was doing. At least, he hoped she did.
She didn’t seem to take any notice of the fact the shed’s wall was heading right for them. She edged closer and closer until they were about to touch it. She slowed and let the jet ski gently kiss it. She applied more power, and the door began to drift open.
The light glared, bouncing off the snow, warming their faces. At the same time, the sharp wind breathed across their features as the doors opened fully and the world beckoned them.
The jet ski took a small ramp and rose into the air. It was only a few inches, but the landing was hard. The air was knocked from Hamish’s lungs. He could feel the chuckle around Kate’s ribs. He couldn’t help smiling at himself.
The scenery rushed by like a dream, full of white and black, like the world had been drained of color. The engine was loud, but warm. Hamish could feel it through the seat.
A huge shape rose in the distance. At first it was invisible, part of the landscape that birthed it, seeming to float up into the sky. He wasn’t sure if it was just a large cloud rising up with the horizon, but as they got closer, he could make out its jagged edge and solid base. It was a mountain.
The cold wind bit at the bare skin on Hamish’s face. It was a little painful, not the kind you get with an illness, but what you get after a good workout session. He let it take him, let himself get consumed by it. He wished he could speak with Kate, but the wind roaring past his ears and the throbbing engine wouldn’t permit it. He let himself enjoy the moment with Kate, his childhood sweetheart.
“Oh, Jesus!” Hamish said.
He slid across the seat toward the left-hand edge. They were zipping along a giant ledge that overlooked the ocean far below. The cliffs were pure white, whiter even than the famed precipices at Dover. And dangerous. One mistake, and they would fall to their doom. Hamish thought back to the warning Jeff had said in passing regarding Kate’s driving ability, or lack thereof. Had he mentioned on accident? Hamish clenched his eyes shut and tightened his grip around Kate’s waist.
The engine sputtered as Kate brought the jet ski to a stop. They clambered off. Hamish’s legs were unsteady. He wasn’t as cold as he’d thought. His fingers moved freely in their snug glove confines. Kate looked fine, with red-cheeked freshness. He supposed he looked the same.
The water was lumpy with shards of ice, and washed against the great ice cliffs with the tide.
“This is incredible,” Hamish said.
“This is Betsy,” Kate said. “She runs all the way along the edge here, and then up and around there. It’s one of the largest ice sheets in the world.”
Hamish had never seen anything like it. A whole new world, white, pure and virtually untouched.
There was an almighty crack, followed by a surge and a rush of something, like a herd of hippos heading directly for them. The ground shook, and Hamish almost lost his balance. Kate stood rock steady. Evidently she was used to such things. Hamish calmed with Kate’s lack of concern. The ground screamed, roaring, and then cried out into the bre
ast of silence.
And then he saw it.
“Oh my God,” Hamish said.
A vast ice shelf broke off and spilled into the sea, pulled under by the water’s icy clutches like a hungry lover. The sea embraced the ice, turning it into a shimmering white star that spun end over end. Ragged corners of the giant iceberg cracked and snapped off, like it was at the potter’s wheel, being reformed, shaped and smoothed. It slowed, and then began rolling in the opposite direction. A wave broke and stretched for the horizon. God worked the Earth, an unfinished piece, constantly evolving and changing.
“It’s incredible,” Hamish said. His voice was tight, taken up with emotion.
“And sad,” Kate said. “That ice will never again be a part of its mother. She birthed it anyway, for it to go on its own journey. No matter how many times I see it, it never looks like the shard wants to leave.”
“It’s beautiful,” Hamish said, still at a loss for words.
“It really is,” Kate said. “It’s called calving. Very much like giving birth. The largest recorded iceberg was named Iceberg B-15 with an area over 11,000 km², larger than the island ofJamaica. The temperatures here are sometimes lower than Mars. The snow in this region never melts. Glaciers and ice sheets cover landscapes, valleys, and mountains and flow towards the sea.
“Right beneath our feet is an almost complete history of the weather on our planet. There are untouched blocks of ice so deep there are flakes of ash inside them from an ancient powerful eruption. It could have almost ended all life as we know it, could have been the biggest event in the Earth’s history since its formation… And we’re not even sure which volcano caused it. But we know, almost to the exact year, when it happened.”
Hamish shook his head.
“Nature is incredible,” he said.
It was one of the reasons many scientists became scientists. They were in awe of the world and the universe and wanted to understand it fully. To leave something to the supernatural or mysterious was not what scientists did, though they loved mysteries and unexplained questions. This love stemmed from their desire to attempt to answer them. Every problem had a solution. The fun was in trying to discover what the solution was, knowing there would be further questions afterward, without end.