Roman Ice

by Dave Bartell

  “Turn here,” said Ian a short while later.

  Karl steered the van onto a quiet residential street and pulled to the curb.

  “The park is around the corner,” said Ian as he exited the van and shrugged on a polar fleece jacket. He zipped it up mid chest as a gust of wind swirled leaves into the gutter. Back home in Johannesburg, the late winter weather was within a few degrees of summer in Iceland. He shivered at the prospect of living here in December.

  Robert was sitting on a bench in one corner of the park opposite a play structure. His black cashmere coat hugged a scarf to his neck. Wide templed sunglasses hid his eyes and he sat one leg crossed over the other with hands buried in pockets. Children screamed as they climbed and chased each other around the apparatus while their parents chatted.

  “Walk with me,” said Robert, standing as Ian and Karl approached. “This place is cold.”

  Ian noticed that Robert did not have the cane, but limped heavily as they walked to a neighborhood coffee shop. They ordered and sat at a table away from the window.

  “Are you ready?” asked Robert.

  “We leave tomorrow, late morning. The idea is to get lost in the weekend traffic,” said Ian.

  “Good. What about this woman Eyrún? Her energy ideas could mess things up. Is she on her own or working with Stjörnu Energy? I don’t trust her,” said Robert.

  “You trust no one,” said Ian, sipping his coffee.

  “I don’t give a shit about archeology or this Stjörnu, quasi-government play. Eyrún’s smart and will figure out what we’re trying to do. This discovery must remain in our control.”

  “What about an accident?” asked Karl.

  “That’s what I had in mind. Something that incapacitates Eyrún and Darwin,” said Robert, tossing back the remains of his espresso.

  “Haven’t we done this enough?” said Ian.

  “Did I hire the wrong man? Karl told me that you might be losing your edge. I told him you needed to get back in the game.”

  “There must be a way to do this without killing more people.”

  “I think he likes them,” said Karl.

  “No, I don’t give a shit about them, but they’re also innocent,” said Ian.

  “We’re all in this too deep now to back out,” said Robert.

  “Goddamn it Robert. When is enough? How much is enough?” said Ian.

  Robert tipped his head toward the barista who was making drinks for a couple who stood at the far end of the counter. Ian lowered his voice, “I swear to god, this is the last thing I will ever do with you.”

  “If we find the diamonds, you won’t ever need to work again,” Robert smiled.

  Ian stood and walked out.

  Robert and Karl watched him turn in the direction of the van. Little brother’s losing his edge thought Karl.

  “I had a man put the bag with the contents you specified in the van while we were in here,” said Robert. “What do you think about Ian?”

  “He’s getting soft. He failed to take out that guy in the mine riot,” he said recalling the moment during the mine riot when Ian had tried to talk the strike leader into giving up. They had been behind a barricade with the strikers and the riot police on the other side had threatened to open fire. Karl had used Ian’s distraction to grab a gun from one striker and shoot the leader.

  “Ian said the guy was ready to give up.”

  “Those people don’t change,” said Karl. Ian failed his mission and then lied about who started it. That won’t happen again.

  “What about you?” asked Robert.

  “What about me? Everything I had was taken in Zimbabwe.”

  “It’s been more than a decade, Karl. Don’t you think it’s time to move on?”

  “Hmph,” Karl grunted. Move on? Move on to what? My life ended that day. Then he asked, “What if Ian can’t do it?”

  “If he proves a liability, then he’ll have to be part of the accident,” said Robert.

  46

  Hilmar’s Farm

  Eyrún looked downslope toward the ocean. The haze muted the boundary between sky and water into a gray curtain and she could just catch a whiff of the salty shore. That afternoon they had crawled up the Ring Road with the holiday traffic and Hilmar’s family had helped them ferry the gear down to the tube. Even with nineteen people, it took four hours. Karl and Ian had figured out a belay system using the winches on the ATVs and they were all set to go in the morning. The weather stayed dry and Hilmar had insisted on a barbecue send off.

  After the meal, she had walked away from the gathering to call her mom. I’m still the grown-up, she thought pocketing her phone. While her mom had expressed concern about the journey, she was too absorbed in her new relationship to understand the risks. She seemed more interested in who was going than Eyrún’s safety. “Are you going with that nice man you mentioned, the one with that explorer’s name?” her mom had asked.

  That explorer, she laughed to herself. Eyrún recalled a casual dinner the previous week where she had pressed Darwin about the lava tubes. “I’ve been thinking about the story you told us in the coffee shop,” she’d said. “How sure are you about this? I mean the Romans traveling in lava tubes and don’t doubt what you found, it’s just that…” Her voice trailed off.

  “I get it. It’s hard to comprehend,” he said. “What’s the biggest dinosaur?”

  “What? I don’t know. A brontosaurus?”

  “Right. The first people who dug up dinosaur bones thought they belonged to giant humans. They also believed volcanic eruptions were angry gods and so on. The point is, we see evidence of things we don’t understand and we make up stories,” he said.

  “I guess so,” she said.

  “We’re scientists, you and I. We form a hypothesis and test it. Sometimes the answers take a long time to prove or the technology is beyond us. It does not disprove our hypothesis; it remains a theory. The lava tubes are like that. We have evidence, but not enough to gain wider acceptance. That’s what we will change,” he said.

  “You’ve seen the tube near Hilmar’s farm. Imagine the tube in Clermont-Ferrand. It looks the same, but the signatures? Deus Vult? That’s a thousand years ago. Guys our age or younger wrote it. And why would they build walls? That tube must go somewhere. Come from somewhere? That’s what we have to find out,” he said. “Together.”

  She smiled at remembering he had grasped her hands across the table as he finished talking. He was a dreamer, but in a grounded way. He makes me feel… comfortable and more… like there’s wonder in the world. I’ve been working so hard, but for what? She pictured him that first day they met. His unbridled joy at showing her the Aquila symbol. Her apprehension fell away like a heavy coat that slipped off her shoulders. I want to go with him. No, I need to go.

  She turned and walked back to the party feeling lighter than she had in years.

  Darwin awoke in the barn. “Sorry,” said Stevie who had knocked something onto the wooden floor. His dream about a beach in Corsica dissolved. The night before he had relaxed around a fire an hour before drifting off to the barn. His fatigue from moving the gear and the frantic pace over the last few days pushed him to bed despite the bright summer night. Also, with all his driving back and forth to Reykjavík, he had seen enough of Iceland’s south coast to last a lifetime.

  He dressed and walked to the house to get coffee. The sun had already arced upward into a cloudless sky after its midnight dance on the horizon. A perfect day to start Verslunarmannahelgi. He knew if all went according to plan, the rest of Iceland would continue celebrating into the early week.

  Hilmar and his wife, Margrét, were awake. None of the families in the other houses appeared to be stirring. Still sleeping off the previous night’s celebration thought Darwin. He sat with them a few minutes before pouring himself a second cup. When he was feeling more upbeat from the circulating caffeine, he walked back to the barn and found Zac lacing his boots.

  “I dunno if I’ll miss coffee
or daylight most,” said Darwin.

  “I think we’ll be missing a lot of things,” said Zac. “I was reading an article about the International Space Station. At least we don’t have to piss in zero gravity.”

  “What do you think?” asked Darwin.

  “At least I can aim. I wonder—”

  “No. I meant the journey. The team. Potential trouble,” said Darwin.

  “It’s a little late for worrying grandma, but I know what you mean. Hell, if your Romans did it, so can we,” said Zac.

  Darwin had a sudden feeling he was forgetting something and checked his pack again.

  “What are you guys talking about?” asked Eyrún.

  “Just the usual jitters before a big game,” said Zac.

  “Hmmm. I called my mom last night,” said Eyrún.

  “I thought we weren’t telling anyone,” said Darwin.

  “She won’t tell anyone. I…” said Eyrún looking off in the distance and squinting. “I didn’t feel right going and not telling her.”

  Zac put his arm around her shoulder and said, “It’ll be okay.” She nodded and walked away.

  “I didn’t want anyone to give us away,” started Darwin.

  “Her dad. Remember?” said Zac.

  “Shit. I…”

  “She walked over here to tell YOU about calling her mom. Be a little more sensitive to people. Most of us are looking to you for answers. We need to know you care about us as much as your dead Romans,” said Zac.

  “Really?”

  “Really,” said Zac. “She cares about you. C’mon now. Let’s do this thing.”

  “Nothing like an early morning walk to get the blood going,” said Zac stepping up next to Stevie and Eyrún.

  “It’s five thirty in the morning,” said Stevie tightening her scarf against the cool air.

  “The early bird gets the worm,” he said.

  “Ugh,” she turned away.

  “She’s not a morning person,” said Eyrún.

  “I get that impression.”

  They reached the site in about twenty minutes. Karl and Ian went straight underground. Everyone else paused and looked out at the ocean.

  “Scotland,” said Zac after a few moments. “Hard to think about. I mean how we’re getting there.”

  No one answered him and one by one each peeled off and headed below.

  “Tough crowd. You’d think we weren’t coming out again,” Zac said to Darwin. “You coming?”

  “In a minute,” said Darwin.

  He wondered how Agrippa must have felt beginning his journey on the opposite end of this tube a thousand kilometers and two millennia distant. He thought about Eyrún’s calling her mom, Why am I such an idiot sometimes? Then he thought of his parents working together on the Crossrail dig in London and his sister and nieces in Lyon. His throat tightened as he remembered he had promised to call Emelio the day before yesterday. Merde. He pulled out his phone.

  “Allô, Grand-Père,” said Darwin.

  “Darwin, my boy. How are you?” said Emelio.

  “Couldn’t be better. Listen, I only have a few minutes as we’re starting the journey, but I remembered promising to call,” said Darwin and caught him up on their plans.

  “Got it. I’ve marked the day on my calendar. How’s Eyrún? That’s her name, right?”

  “She’s great,” said Darwin, remembering he told Emelio about her last week when he had called after learning Robert Van Rooyen turned up.

  “Well, you take care of her. You sounded like maybe she was someone special,” said Emelio. “Should I tell your parents?”

  “No, they’d only worry. Best to leave it until we come out.”

  “Okay. I love you, Darwin. Good luck,” said Emelio.

  “I love you too, Grand-Père. Talk to you soon,” said Darwin.

  He caught up with everyone in the large room in front of the main tube. They jumped as a roar exploded the silence. Ian and Karl had started the ATVs.

  “Jesus, you idiots. How about a little warning!” yelled Stevie. Their plan called for the ATVs to go ahead to minimize the noise and fumes. The noise reduced to a reverberating growl as the ATVs rolled down the tube.

  “Ugh!” Stevie waved off the exhaust. “Do we have to breathe this for a week?”

  “Only one way to find out,” said Zac, turning toward the tube.

  Darwin stopped at the entrance and looked back toward the handprint. “You better be right, Agrippa,” he said and knocked twice on the tube wall. Zac grinned at his friend’s ritual habit of starting a journey.

  47

  The Lava Tube

  Darwin and Zac fell in behind the others, who were walking in pairs: Eyrún and Stevie; Jón and Pétur. Their headlamps swept the floor and walls as they took in the space. Orange and red blotches of lichen covered the walls. The splatters of organic growth looked like a paint-ball war.

  Numerous insects scurried for a hiding place when the lights caught them. Moths and other small winged insects drifted in toward the lamps. “Ewww.” Eyrún swatted at something that flew in toward her face.

  “Keep an eye out for snakes!” shouted Zac.

  “There’re snakes down here?” asked Pétur.

  “Sure, what do you think eats the rats?” said Zac, glancing at Stevie with a wry grin.

  “Rats!” said Pétur.

  “There’re no rats down here,” said Jón.

  “We’re in a cave,” said Stevie, smiling back at Zac. “Anything is possible.”

  The ATVs rumbled in the distance. “They’re about fifteen hundred meters ahead of us,” said Jón. “That will increase as they continue at sixteen kilometers per hour to our five.”

  “How do you figure, Jón?” asked Zac, egging him on.

  “Well, they got a seven-minute head start, so at sixteen kilometers per hour, that’s ah… ten miles per hour for you, Zac, or two hundred sixty-seven meters per minute times seven minutes—”

  “What if we get a tailwind?” asked Zac.

  “There’s no wind in here,” said Jón.

  Zac rattled out a fart.

  “Oh, you’re disgusting,” said Stevie and ran ahead toward Eyrún and Darwin.

  After an hour walking, the conversations played out and their footsteps crunched in the strange quiet of the tube. The dust kicked up by their boots tickled at their sinuses, and every so often one of them sneezed. Darwin thought the tube smelled like the basement of his undergraduate archeology building.

  He was smiling at a memory from that time when a new thought popped into his head. I’m responsible for them now. They’re here because I convinced them it’s real. He then imagined the faces of the people who had laughed at Emelio. He wished he could round them up to see their faces when he came out the other side of the tube. Assholes. I’ll show you.

  “The ATVs are five thousand six hundred seventy-three meters ahead of us,” Jón reported during their stop for lunch.

  “How fast are they moving?” asked Zac.

  “Well, I’d have to measure their distance travelled over the next minute, then—”

  “Just kidding, bro,” said Zac, patting Jón’s knee as they leaned against the tube wall and ate the last of their fresh food. Hilmar’s wife insisted on making sandwiches for their first day.

  “Nine point seven kilometers per hour,” said Jón.

  “Let’s talk about how we’ll use the seismic app,” said Zac.

  “Yeah. Sure,” said Jón.

  “Let’s get going, guys,” said Darwin.

  Jón and Zac drifted a few meters behind the others as they talked about sensors and what data they could record. Darwin and Stevie took up the front.

  “I thought Zac was just a goofball,” said Stevie.

  “He is, but don’t let that fool you. He’s a serious data scientist and passionate about developing a seismic early warning system. Humor is part of his creative side.”

  “What?” yelled Ian.

  “I said…” started Karl, but
instead throttled back on the ATV and switched it off. Ian did the same. He put his hands to his low back.

  “Ugh, I feel like my spine’s compressed,” said Ian, reaching for the ceiling.

  “Pussy. You’ve gone soft.”

  “Maybe I just don’t collect badges for pain anymore.”

  “Shit. Foot’s gone to sleep,” said Karl. He stumbled and limped a few steps shaking out his left ankle.

  “Look who’s talking now. Pussy,” laughed Ian.

  “How much farther do we want to go? We said twenty clicks. We’re at nineteen.”

  “Yeah. Let me check with them,” said Ian, taking out his mobile.

  Ian: Stopped at 19km

  A reply came back after several minutes.

  Jón: Good, we’re about 2 hours behind you. Good enough for day 1

  Ian: Stopped. Setting up camp

  Jón: Okay see you in 2 hours

  “Tell me again how these work?” asked Darwin, seeing Jón using his mobile.

  “The ATVs have a small cellular transmitter. Whoever’s driving drops a repeater every five kilometers. Our phones act as a mesh network,” said Jón.

  “How far can it go?”

  “In theory, about twenty K in a straight line,” said Jón.

  The mesh network was one of Jón’s ideas. Aside from enabling mobile-to-mobile communications, the mesh network allowed them to collect data about the lava tube environment. They could drop small sensors and read the data as long as their batteries lasted. The ATVs charged large batteries during their waking hours and were used to recharge lights and mobile devices while they slept.

  “Do you smell that?” yelled Pétur.

  “Smell what?” asked Jón.

  “Kjötsúpa!” Pétur yelled and picked up his pace.

  Eyrún ran to join Pétur at the front.

  “What’s keyot-sup?” asked Zac.

  “Heaven on earth. It’s lamb soup, served in the winter, but good anytime. Call it Icelandic comfort food,” said Pétur over his shoulder.