***
“Thank you,” Lieutenant Richards said to Susan when they were alone.
“Don’t mention it,” she said, slipping her arm through his. “I like sticking up for you. Will you be in trouble?”
“Me? No. Just stated an opinion, that’s all. I’m not really in the Captain's command anyway, since I’m only on loan for this project. I really do think we have to help this guy, even if it is right here, and right now. If you only stand for something when it’s convenient, then you’re not really standing for anything at all. You can see that, can’t you?” he asked her, looking into her eyes, hoping to see that she understood that the human element always superseded any other cause. Allowing helpless individuals to be sacrificed for what was supposed to be a higher purpose, by definition, disqualified that cause as being unworthy. Only a cause that stood for the individual was worth making the sacrifice for, he thought.
“Yeah,” she said, slipping her arm back out from his and looking at the ground. “There’s something we need to talk about - about that very thing. I don’t know if you’re going to be happy with me, or mad.”
“What do you mean?” he asked as the door flung open and the Captain came in, followed by the Russians and Dr. Fredricks.
“What she means is,” the Captain said, not really knowing what was being said, but taking the opportunity to jump in anyway, “that she has not only been complicit in the kidnapping of a foreign national, but she has also aided and abetted a terrorist group in carrying out an attack on American property.”
“What?” the Lieutenant asked incredulously.
“What?” Susan shouted, a full octave higher.
“You both heard me right the first time. Just ask these guys, if you don’t believe me.”
The Captain pointed towards the glaciologists who followed him in, who then settled into their seats, an abject melancholy hovering over them like a cloud, their season having been ruined.
“I don’t understand,” the Lieutenant said. “What is it that’s happened?”
“Go take a look,” the Captain said, seemingly not willing to spell it out. “Her friends left their calling card at the drill site. Told me they did it to stop your project here. Now where do you think they heard about that?”
The Lieutenant didn’t answer, since it was clear what the Captain meant. He wanted to come to Susan’s defense like she had to his, but he didn’t know if she had something to do with what was being described or not. After a moment's hesitation, however, he realized it didn’t matter and chose to speak anyway.
“These are serious accusations to make against anyone, especially a Principle Investigator in the NSF. Do you have any proof of what you say?”
“Do I need any?” the Captain asked, looking straight at Susan who had remained uncharacteristically silent until then.
“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,” she said in a voice that proclaimed that this was her story and she was sticking to it. “But I am going to go see what happened at the drill site.”
She walked out without any further conversation, the Lieutenant following her after staring down the Captain for an instant.
“What was it you were starting to say before?” he asked while they walked, his voice calm. She smiled at him, in recognition of the fact that he was staying calm for her sake.
“I was going to tell you that when I saw that the Green Organization had arrived, I put Sokolov with them and convinced them to take him with them.”
The Lt. stopped short in his tracks.
“You did what?” he rasped.
“It was a spur of the moment thing, and I admit that I wasn’t looking at it in exactly the same way as you were, but the same result will happen. He will get free. Are you mad at me?”
“No,” he said. “Not yet, anyway. I mean, I don’t think so. I still don’t really know what all’s happened.”
“Well, that makes two of us. Let’s go find out.”
They walked briskly into the strengthening wind, to the tattered tent that once shielded the drilling apparatus. The drifting snow was already reclaiming the destroyed machinery, making the wreck of it appear so much more complete.
“Oh, my God,” Susan said, her voice hushed, speaking only loud enough to be heard over the wind. “I can’t believe this. It isn’t possible.”
“I’m afraid it is,” he answered in the same tone. “I wouldn’t have believed it either, though. This isn’t a protest. This isn’t even a statement. This is just vandalism.”
“It’s just so, pointless. These guys didn’t have anything to do with the oil search. It’s just science. Why would they attack science?”
“And if they were part of it?” he asked her, knowing where her loyalties lay. “Would it have been an acceptable target? Is this how the debate is to play out from now on?”
“That’s not fair,” she said. “You know I would never condone this sort of thing, don’t you?”
“I’d hope not, but while we’re being fair, you have to admit that sometimes the things you say make it sound like it’s exactly what you would condone. Maybe not this, but in the right time and place, something like it. Someone just went a little further, this time.”
She didn’t answer, she just shook her head and walked through the tent, gazing at the destruction, her head down. Even her posture through the bulky clothes showed that she was mourning for what was lost. He didn’t say any more, knowing that the accusation had hit home. Any more would only be gratuitously piling on to what must surely be a growing sense of guilt that she had somehow brought this calamity upon bystanders who bore no standing in her quarrel with, him? He was the real target of the attack; that was plain to see. Or what he represented.
No, he would say no more. She would either see it herself, or she would not. He loved her, and if love could be defined in a word, the word in this case was hope. It was a hope that went beyond the need for reciprocity, though that was a beginning. If there was to be hope, it would require that she see past her own prejudices, her most deeply held beliefs, and see that he, too, believed in something, and that that thing also had merit. For he could not surrender his own beliefs in the hope of having her, as precious a thing as that might be.
He watched her and waited, looking for any sign of what she was thinking; the hope strong, then fading; fading, then strong. But he waited, saying no more.
The Pole of Inaccessibility Page 40
