by Perrin Briar
“It is,” Kate said. “And we should be protecting it. We’ve only got one planet. That’s all. One experiment. Sometimes I think what we’re doing isn’t making any difference. You can show as much evidence to someone as you like but if they’ve already made up their mind about what they’re seeing then there’s nothing you can do.
“There’s going to be a science conference in London next week, but they probably won’t listen to the evidence again. And soon, it will be too late. People always assume something will come up, something will be invented to save the day, and maybe it will, but we shouldn’t be relying on miracles.”
“The people with the money so often get to choose the future,” Hamish said.
“Which is why people like Dr. Scott are so important,” Kate said. She corrected herself: “Were so important. I still can’t believe he’s gone, sometimes. How did you know him?”
“I didn’t, really,” Hamish said.
“You must have met him at some point,” Kate said. “He wanted you to take his place on this project.”
“I’m as stumped as you are,” Hamish said. “I mean, I’ve published things he probably read. And I met him once. At a conference in Atlanta. I asked a question about the evolution of viruses amongst primates – my thesis topic.”
“Pretty sexy,” Kate said.
“I doubt he remembered me from that,” Hamish said.
“How did he reply?” Kate said.
“That such an occurrence was possible, but incredibly unlikely,” Hamish said. “I started a new thesis project the next day.”
“Informed investors,” Kate said. “That’s what the world needs. Not someone who just looks at the bottom line. There’s nowhere else on Earth like this place.”
“It’s so quiet, calm and peaceful,” Hamish said.
He didn’t think he’d been in such a quiet location before. There were moments when the wind died down and the universe forgot this corner of the planet. Silence in its purest form. And then there would be the gentle slosh and trickling splash as a small shelf of ice slipped into the water. It really was calming, as close to a spiritual experience as Hamish had ever had.
Kate lifted a small box off the back of the jet ski and sat it down on the ice. Hamish hadn’t even noticed her carrying it earlier. Kate reached inside and took out a waterproof blanket. She laid it on the snow and smoothed it out. She opened the box and began to take food out. Hamish couldn’t help but smile.
“A picnic?” he said. “In the Antarctic?”
Only Kate could think nothing was strange about that.
“I hope you like cold food,” Kate said. “I brought some soup, but it won’t stay warm long.”
“Sounds great,” Hamish said.
He played his part, sitting and crossing his legs. There were sandwiches, sausage rolls, bars of chocolate. Healthy stuff. But it was exactly what Hamish wanted right then. It reminded him of when they were kids and their mothers would make them food to eat under the blankets they’d erected as their base of operations.
“I wonder what our younger selves would have said, seeing us here,” Hamish said.
“Disappointed, no doubt,” Kate said. “Everyone grows up thinking they’re going to be someone great, will go on to change the world for the better. Instead we become regular people.”
“I don’t think you could ever be a regular person,” Hamish said.
Kate smiled and nodded at what other girls would have considered a backhanded compliment.
“But what else is there?” Hamish said. “Besides doing something you love and being with the people you care about.”
“Nothing, I suppose,” Kate said. “Helping others. Helping the world to improve.”
“That’s what science does,” Hamish said.
It was interesting, seeing Kate is such surroundings. She was always so noisy and full of life. To see her like this, so introspective and calm… It belied the depths she’d always had but rarely allowed to surface. Those who were obsessed with the frivolous, with the insignificant, who couldn’t exist for five seconds without checking their phones and the latest celebrity news, would have been bored silly in a place such as this. But for those with the skill of introspection, to understand the greater scheme of the universe, and to want to understand their place within it, it was heaven.
But Hamish wasn’t beyond the insignificant either, and couldn’t help asking Kate the question that had been plaguing him since he arrived that morning:
“So, you and Daniel,” he said.
He studied her expression. Her eyelashes blinked rapidly as she considered her answer. She took her eyes to the landscape and the horizon. Hamish regretted asking the question. The mood, the magic, was broken.
Kate took a calm breath.
“It gets lonely down here on this ice cube,” she said. “Pickings are slim. He’s a nice guy. I’m single, and so is he.”
Kate wasn’t the type to make apologies, even if she was the one to blame. Which in this case, she wasn’t.
“I understand,” Hamish said.
He wanted to change the topic, fast.
“What brought you here?” he said.
“Oh, the usual,” Kate said. “The pursuit of fame and fortune.”
She grinned. Such things were accidents in the academic world. It was always best to do something you enjoyed rather than something you dreaded each day, even if it didn’t pay as well. That was the problem with the modern world. People felt they were entitled to a good job with great pay. They looked down on jobs that did not provide them with the esteem and money they’d grown up assuming they would inherit. Some put in the hard work and got the job they wanted. That was fair enough. But there were so many who didn’t do the work, but still wanted to be the next big singer, actor or celebrity. Whatever ‘celebrity’ meant. It used to mean something. Now, anyone and everyone was a celebrity. All they had to do was get enough views on YouTube.
“I came here to study the ice,” Kate said. “Not much call for that in Florida.”
They’d shared their childhood together, playing games of imagined adventure. The type where they could go anywhere, do anything. It was child’s play, but it was important play for later life when such experiences were frowned upon. No adult made up stories, except filmmakers, writers and artists, but those were difficult industries to break into and make a living from. Plus, they often didn’t provide the adventure and fame and fortune everyone assumed they did, save to a lucky minority.
“What brought you here?” Kate said.
You, Hamish wanted to say. But he couldn’t. He looked down and kicked a small clump of ice with the tip of his boot.
“I wanted to do something that made a difference,” Hamish said.
“Teaching does make a difference,” Kate said.
“You know, work on the frontlines for once,” Hamish said, “for my name to be attached to a project that students would be reading about one day.”
“The old vanity trick, huh?” Kate said with a smile.
Hamish chuckled.
“Yes,” he said. “I suppose it is. She can be a seductive mistress. But I want to make a difference too. I think a lot of people do. They just don’t have the time to do it.”
“That’s horseshit,” Kate said, never one to mince words. “People always have time. If they don’t, then they make time for it. But they usually don’t care enough about something to want to make the sacrifices required. That’s what people are really missing. The drive, the need, to achieve what they want. People don’t achieve their dreams, not because it’s too hard, but because they look at it the wrong way. Dreams are tangible, not ethereal. They can achieve practically anything, so long as they have the right amount of drive, passion and motivation.
“Sometimes people give up and try something else. That’s fine too. But they should always be striving for something, something more, to become better people, to change their surroundings so it’s a better place for all. They need to g
et up off their asses and go do those things. It takes action, not words. That’s what the people here have done. There’s nothing magical about what we do. We just know what we want and we do it – that’s the way the world works. You need goals, and they need to be achievable.
“But let’s face it, if someone doesn’t have enough motivation to stop smoking, to lose weight, to exercise, then what chance do they have of having the motivation to change the world? To achieve their dreams? None. And then they wonder why they haven’t achieved anything with their lives. They get depressed and take medication. All because they didn’t have the balls to make an effort, a small, tiny effort each day to achieve their goals and their dreams. That’s not what people want to hear, but it’s the truth.”
Kate was panting by the end of her tirade. She glared at Hamish, as if daring him to contradict her. Hamish held up his hands in surrender.
“I’m not disagreeing with you,” he said.
Kate smiled. Her cheeks glowed red.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just something I feel very passionate about.”
“I can see that,” Hamish said.
“The greatness people could achieve if they just spent a little time helping others rather than just themselves all the time,” Kate said.
“You don’t have to apologize,” Hamish said. “I like seeing your passion.”
“Daniel doesn’t,” Kate said. “I go on like this, and he starts checking his phone.”
“Maybe he was a very nice one,” Hamish said with a grin.
Kate grinned back.
“It’s one thing to want to achieve something great for yourself – selfishly, like me,” Hamish said. “It’s another to want to inspire it in other people. The people like you, you’re the Martin Luther Kings, the Gandhis, the, dare-I-say-it, Hitlers, of the world. For better or worse, they inspire change in others. They are the real treasures of the human race, because ideas spread and take root, causing a knock-on effect that lives on for generations.
“It’s the single mother living on a project who organizes events and games for the local kids to get them off the streets for an evening. It’s the successful businessman who sets up a mentor training program to help the next young entrepreneur to set up his or her business. It’s the Dr. Scotts who fund science initiatives to learn about our planet’s past, to educate us all on what we thought we already knew. They’re the ones who inspire change, not the selfish rest of us.”
Kate’s grin grew larger and larger the longer Hamish spoke.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she said.
Hope, and a fair amount of love, sprouted in Hamish’s heart at the words.
“Me too,” he said.
They shared a moment, looking into each other’s eyes, a moment that, to Hamish, seemed to last forever. Hamish tried to let all his emotions travel through his eyes, and into her, so she would understand the way he’d felt about her for the past twenty years. He tried to see the same in her eyes, and for a flicker, a nanosecond, he thought he caught sight of it. But he knew he couldn’t trust it. The eyes see what they want to see.
Now was the moment he should tell her the way he felt, the way he had always felt. He parted his mouth and licked his lips. This was the moment, the moment he was going to tell her everything. This was why he’d flown all this way, had put off his other plans. The reason he couldn’t go on living the way he had. Because in his heart he wanted to live with her, to love her, to be with her, and for her to be with him, because without her, there was no way to live.
And then the old familiar weight of doubt settled in, pressing down, deep and painful, even more so than the cold. What if she rejected him? What if she didn’t feel the same way? What if he had to spend the next few months pretending he hadn’t told her everything? Hadn’t embarrassed himself in front of her?
What if, what if, what if?
The questions attacked him from every direction, as many as his mind was capable of conjuring. They proved to be too many, too powerful. He pulled his eyes away from hers and picked up another sandwich. She looked away too, and stared out at the sea. The world was a big place, the universe huge beyond contemplation, and yet here Hamish was, unable to tell the woman he loved how he felt. It was enough to make him feel sick to his stomach.
And then he saw something, something on the horizon.
“What is that?” Hamish said.
He was looking at something behind Kate, a dark shape. Flecks of light did nothing to doubt the blackness. They were sporadic, coming from all over, like grey hair on an old woman’s dress. Betsy’s twisted twin sister.
“It’s a storm,” Kate said, getting to her feet. “A big one. Come on. We’d better get back.”
“Maybe it’ll swing north?” Hamish said.
Kate bent down to pick up their picnic.
“I wouldn’t count on it,” she said.
Z-MINUS: 5 hours 20 minutes
Hamish couldn’t help peering over his shoulder at the approaching storm. It was moving so fast! Each time he looked back the storm seemed to be gaining. The thunder wasn’t distant pops now, but harsh, deep throbs that shook the ground and made the air crackle with energy.
Kate pushed the jet ski hard, rising and tracking the movement of the land with her body, like a professional horse jockey. Hamish mimicked her. He could feel how tense her body was. If she was that worried, Hamish knew he had to be concerned too. But he couldn’t understand what could be so bad about a little storm for Kate to drive the way she was.
The wind struck them hard, from the side. The jet ski reacted like they’d been hit by a truck. Kate pulled on the handlebars, leaning down to force her weight into the movement, and straightened the jet ski up again.
The wind was cold and harsh, cutting through them like a steak knife. Where a moment ago it was peaceful and calm, it was now dark and filled with danger.
KRRRUUUUNNNGGGGGG!
The thunder exploded like someone had smashed a cymbal over their heads. Hamish shouted, but couldn’t hear himself. All over his body his hair stood on end, the air alive with electric energy. Somehow, Kate maintained her grip, head straight like a horse stretching for the final post, toward the black buildings of Palmer Station.
Then all hell broke loose.
The snow swirled, tossed up into the stiff gale, rising a dozen feet in the air. Kate drove through the great white curtains. It dampened their skin and coats. The buildings of Palmer Station were getting close. They were going to make it.
Then the snow descended, a blizzard. It removed all sight of the buildings ahead, as if they’d been blinded. But if they kept their heading, they were certain to run into Palmer Station…
Run into…
They were still running at top speed. Hamish squinted his eyes against the storm. He was beginning to get nervous. If they slammed into the buildings at this speed the others would have to scrape them off with shovels. He was about to lean forward and shout in Kate’s ear to slow down when she eased off the throttle. Hamish would have slowed further, but Kate was in the driving seat.
Kate eased up off the accelerator further. She cast her head around. They should have been amongst the buildings by now, but they hadn’t come across anything. Worse still, there was nothing to suggest evidence Palmer Station was even close by.
The thunder roiled and rumbled overhead. It sounded like victorious laughter. They were lost, and the storm was closing in for the kill.
There!
Hamish’s heart leapt into his throat. He’d caught sight of something. An arched roof? It was gone in an instant, but it had been there. Hadn’t it? He tapped Kate on the shoulder and pointed animatedly in the direction he’d seen it.
Kate didn’t hesitate, turning the handlebars. The jet ski crawled forward. Hamish was struck with the reason why she was suddenly being so careful: if the ski got damaged, they were done for.
They edged along, the little engine’s roar drowned by the howling wind and rattl
ing thunder. But the vibrations under Hamish legs were their beacon of hope in an eternal darkness. Fail to find Palmer Station and they were as good as dead.
Then, finally, a large flat wall. It was yellow – not the color of the red shed the jet ski belonged to, but now Kate knew the location well enough. She steered the jet ski onward, skirting the yellow hut and then, the moment it was out of view, the larger red shed came into view. The doors were held open, a man on each. One wore yellow, the other red. Hamish wasn’t familiar enough with the colors yet to know who they were, but he was relieved nonetheless.
Kate pulled the jet ski to a stop and thumbed off the engine. The two figures wrestled with the doors, pulling them shut. Hamish got off the bike and moved to help them, but staggered, almost losing his feet. He was more exhausted than he thought. Kate must have felt the same because she hadn’t moved from the driver’s seat yet. She’d removed her helmet and sat there with her hands over her head, panting for oxygen.
The two figures got the doors closed, and then lashed them shut with the chain.
“Key,” Daniel said, stretching out his hand toward Kate.
She fumbled inside her coat pocket and tossed the key to him. It was a bad throw, but Daniel caught it anyway with a single hand. He lashed the chains between the two door handles and snapped the padlock between them, locking them tight.
The doors rattled on their hinges, but the roar and groan of the storm had been locked out. Snow crept through the gaps, but not enough to worry. They were safe.
“Thank God,” Daniel said, removing his hood.
He wrapped his arms around Kate.
“We were beginning to think you weren’t going to make it back,” Daniel said.
“We almost didn’t,” Kate said. “It came on quicker than we thought.”
“Where have you been?” he said.
“I took Hamish to see Betsy,” Kate said.