Colder Than Ice

by MacPherson, Helen

  “Could I please have a moment of your time?”

  Allison raised her red rimmed eyes. “Yes?”

  Shit, she’s been crying. That bastard. I swear to God if he’d hit her today, I don’t think I could’ve been held responsible for my actions. “I’m sorry things turned out this way. I know it can’t be comfortable for you to be bunking with me. But from Rick’s comments, it’s obvious you haven’t mentioned my sexuality to him and for that I’m grateful.”

  Allison absently picked at a page in her diary. “I really didn’t see it was anyone else’s business.”

  “Thanks all the same.” Michela took a deep breath. “I’d also like to apologize for what I said that day in the room at Wills Station. It was completely uncalled for and crass. I’d like to reassure you I’d never do anything to compromise you in any way. All I ask is whether we can maintain a strong professional relationship. Is that possible?”

  Allison nodded.

  “Do you want to talk about it? What happened today I mean?”

  “No, thanks. I’d rather put the whole thing behind me, if that’s at all possible.” Allison stood and went to her bed space. “But right now I’d like some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Okay.” Michela turned, giving Allison some privacy. “Pleasant dreams,” she whispered. She lay down on her bed for what was the first of many restless nights.

  Chapter Seven

  My Darling Charlotte,

  It is with heavy heart that I make this entry. We have suffered our first tragedy in this expedition. To understand why the loss occurred, it is first necessary to understand the pull of this continent. The men’s urge to explore is strong.

  We were barely a week and a half into the preparation of our base camp when four of my team approached me regarding the dispatch of the first exploration party. I explained to them that the priority lay in the completion of our base, long before we could attempt anything else. The discussions were far from cordial, with me finally receiving a begrudging agreement that the crew would wait.

  Imagine my surprise and dismay the following morning to find the small group had left in the early hours of the morning, taking half of our dogs and a great deal of our stores with them. We waited in vain for their return, losing all hope when our half-starved dogs staggered back into camp. How the animals found us I’ll never know, but their arrival signaled the worst for the men who had left in the night—I am certain they have all perished.

  I am sorry my love to bear such sorrowful tidings. I feel as if I have failed in my leadership of this team.

  ERF

  Antarctica—2009

  Sarah closed the mess hut door and headed for the kitchen stove. “I wondered where you’d gotten to. Want a brew?”

  Michela put down her pen and rubbed her neck. “I’m about due for one. I’ve been catching up on my notes. My digital tablet’s not working, something to do with the cold I suppose. I’m having to record everything by hand and I’m woefully behind.”

  Sarah put a cup of coffee in front of Michela and then returned to the kitchen area to prepare a thermos of coffee. “I suppose what’s recently happened around here wouldn’t be helping much either.”

  Michela looked down at her notes. “You should be doing my job.”

  “You wouldn’t be doing your work on this table if Di and Rick had their way. Just the other day I caught them on it, in a less than compromising position. Bugger me, they’re acting like a couple of sex starved teenagers.”

  Michela shuddered at the visual image. “I don’t think I want to go there. But I’m happy that the three of them have managed to stop arguing.”

  “I know what you mean. The argument they had the day after Rick and Alli’s breakup, over whether or not to dig a trench around the hut was a doozy. It was the safe option though. Alli’s keen to ensure the integrity of the building.” Sarah paused at the pained look that crossed Michela’s face. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m pretty concerned about Alli. She seems to retreat into herself a little more every day. She’s refused to talk about what’s happened, even though I asked her if she wants to. I see how she watches Di and Rick and it’s plain she’s still hurting over the breakup. That, and the eighteen hour days she’s putting in. I wouldn’t be surprised if she ends up as a patient of yours.”

  Sarah screwed the lid on the thermos. “I don’t like the sound of that. I’ll have a chat with her and see if she’ll open up with me.” Michela nodded her thanks. “But for now I better get this to the workers outside.”

  SARAH CALLED DOWN from the edge of the trench. “Hey, you guys are going great guns.”

  “G’day, mate,” Rob called from the nine foot high trench around the hut.

  Sarah waved a green metal thermos. “How’d you feel about a break and a nice cup of hot chocolate?”

  Rob moaned in delight. “Sarah, if things were different I’d kiss you.” Sarah screwed up her face. “All right, all right. I get the picture. Do you think you could bring it down here? Out of the wind?”

  Sarah nodded and walked to the cut steps at the other end of the hut. Preoccupied with looking toward where the hut was being uncovered, her foot hit a slick spot. Her arms windmilled and she struggled to steady herself. As she teetered on the edge of the step, her hands found no purchase on the smooth walls of ice and she fell into the trench, landing flat on her back.

  Rob ran to Sarah’s side, knelt down, and searched for any obvious signs of injury. “Are you okay?”

  Sarah tuned her mind to her body. Legs and arms still pointing in the right direction. A bit woozy in the head, possibly a small concussion, but ribs seem okay. Shit that was lucky. “I’ve felt better and I do feel like a bit of an idiot but other than that, oh, crap.” As she raised herself into a seated position, the familiar pain of an old back injury made itself known.

  “What is it?” Ewan asked.

  “I think I’ve twinged an old war wound. Damn it.”

  Ewan helped Sarah up. “It’s not too bad is it?”

  Rob hooked his arm under Sarah’s armpit and they gingerly walked to the stairs. “That depends on your definition of too bad, eh, Sarah?”

  Sarah cursed, part in frustration and part over the dull pain that had settled at the base of her spine. “God give me strength that I have to be stuck with you again when I do this.”

  Ewan frowned and looked at Rob for an explanation.

  Rob chuckled. “I’ve been stuck with Sarah before when this has happened. Usually she’s laid up for at least a couple of days. If there’s one thing she hates, it’s being a patient. She’s like a bear with a sore head.”

  She winced at the discomfort in her lower back. “I bloody-well am not.”

  “You are, so shut up or I will give you something to whine about.” Rob took Sarah’s full weight from Ewan. “Mate, both of us aren’t going to be able to get her up those steps. Can you go and find Michela and let her know what’s happened. I’ll get lady muck here to her sleeping quarters.”

  ROB HAD BARELY gotten Sarah into her bed when there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” he called as he placed a folded blanket under Sarah’s knees, to elevate her legs and take the weight off the base of her back.

  Michela walked in, knelt beside Sarah, and put her hand on her arm to prevent her from moving too much. “How did you manage this?”

  “Let’s say, it’s the last time I decide to play the Good Samaritan to someone at the bottom of a trench.”

  Michela softly rubbed Sarah’s arm. “Do you want me to call Wills Station?”

  Sarah shook her head. “Please don’t. I’d never hear the end of it from Maddi and besides, this isn’t the first time this has happened. The best thing is a couple of days bed rest. From there I’ll have to take it easy when I move around camp, that’s all.”

  “Do you need anything for the pain?”

  “Yes, although I’m going to have to self administer it. Rob, can you get my bag please?”
/>   Rob fetched the bag from one of the small cupboards and handed it to Michela.

  “There’s a vial with the label benzodiazepine on it. It’s more commonly known as Valium. It’ll almost immediately start to alleviate the spasm.”

  Michela handed her the vial and searched for a needle. “Can you administer this yourself?”

  “I don’t know I’ve got any choice. At least I can administer the first shot. After that I’ll take the pills for the first twenty-four hours or so. Do you think you can possibly stop people from not getting hurt while I’m in la-la land?”

  Michela smiled and pulled an alcohol swab from the bag. “If I can keep Alli away from Rick, that should limit any degree of physical damage. As for the rest of us, we’re just going to have to be a little careful. Where do you want me to swab you?”

  “My right shoulder, on the meaty bit of the deltoid. That’ll give me plenty to aim at. This is going to work pretty quickly. Is there anything you want to ask me before I’m off-line for a while?”

  “No, hang on, yes. Who’s going to look after you for bathroom visits and the like?”

  “Don’t worry, Rob’s an old hand at helping me with that, aren’t you, mate? He knows what needs to be done.”

  Michela smiled at Rob and patted Sarah’s knee. “In that case, pleasant dreams. We’ll just have to celebrate New Year’s day without you. If you need anything just let me know, via Rob that is.”

  “That’d be right, hold a party while I’m out to it.” Michela winced as Sarah injected herself and watched as Sarah’s features glazed over. She took the syringe from Sarah’s hands and gave it to Rob.

  “Don’t worry. She’ll be all right,” Rob said.

  Michela nodded and prayed that everyone else stayed that way, at least until Sarah recovered.

  ALLISON SWITCHED OFF the blade and turned to her co-workers. “This ice has done a great job of acting as packing material around the building.”

  Ewan rubbed his hand over the bleached wood. “Sure has. The ice has worn the wood a bit, but all in all, it looks pretty good for something over a hundred years old.”

  Allison nodded and turned to Rob. “How are those joists going?”

  Rob patted a joist, supporting the hut’s frame. “They’re good to go. If you pass me one of the blades, I’ll cut away at some of this ice. That should give you a better look inside.”

  Rob carefully cleared away the excess ice. The team moved closer and stared at the foyer in childlike amazement.

  Rick looked around the small entrance. “This looks like an old photograph.”

  Dianne carefully stroked one of the four frozen wet weather jackets hanging from a wooden peg on the wall. “Look at these. They look as if they’re part of a museum exhibit instead of history itself.”

  Allison carefully picked up a pair of stiff leather boots. “Look at these snow boots and the shoes down there. They’re in fantastic shape, as if they were only put here yesterday.”

  Rick nodded. “Just think what waits us inside. Why don’t we increase the heat and speed of the blades so we can get to what’s in there?”

  “Mate, the walls may be solid but we don’t know what the weight of snow and ice has done to the building’s ceiling,” Rob said. “We need to take it slow and set up joists as we go. That’ll give you a safer environment to work in.”

  “Suit yourself,” Rick said. “But don’t come crying to me when you get to the good bits and you find it’s time to pack up and go home.”

  Allison, barely acknowledging Rick’s comments, pulled her notebook from her jacket. “Let’s get some of this catalogued. Dianne, have you got your camera handy?”

  Dianne pulled the camera from its waterproof pack and the two spent the rest of the day cataloguing the antique cache. They then sealed some of the artifacts in specially designed bags for the long journey back to Australia.

  FRUSTRATED BY THE speed of the dig, Rick argued almost daily with Dianne and Allison. On the fifth day, he finally threw his hands up in disgust, and went to the mess hut for a cup of coffee. What’s old man Peterson going to say when we arrive home with some bloody old clothes to show for our troubles? These guys would have all kept diaries. That’s what we’ve got to find. Plus there’s bound to be other caches around here. We’ll never have time to find any of those if we continue to dig at this pace. He yanked a coffee cup from the wall and slammed it down on the bench.

  “What’s the matter, mate?” Ewan asked from his seat at the dining table.

  Rick rubbed his hands through his dark hair. “It’s these bloody women. They’re taking too much time—time we can’t afford to waste.”

  Ewan scratched at his three-day growth of beard. “I thought that was to make sure everything was safe.”

  “If it was any safer we wouldn’t be doing anything at all. Trust me, I know about this sort of stuff and we’re going far too slow.”

  “Women do tend to fuss over everything don’t they?”

  Rick vigorously nodded. “Herr DeGrasse runs this place like a Army camp. I don’t know why but she watches me like a bloody hawk. Damn, there’s so much more that we could find if we just took the time to do so.” He poured water into his cup.

  “Maybe we should be a bit riskier,” Ewan said.

  Rick sat down and surreptitiously gazed over his coffee at Ewan’s eager face. “You know the best thing about finding things down here in Antarctica?”

  Ewan tilted his head. “No, what?”

  “It usually means it’s never been discovered before and so you have naming rights.” Rick knew he couldn’t be further from the truth, but he now had Ewan’s full attention. “Come to think of it, I can’t really see why Finlayson would build one hut if they were looking at exploring other parts of the continent. Why I bet there’re dumps and caches all around here.”

  Ewan again scratched his stubble, his face a picture of concentration. “What you’re saying is if someone like me found such a dump then I’d have first naming rights?”

  Rick smiled. “You’ve got it in one.” He went to the kitchen and rinsed his cup before returning it to its place on the wall. “I’ll see you around.”

  Later that afternoon, Rick wasn’t at all surprised at the knock on his door. “Come in.”

  Ewan, juggling a map and one of the emergency kits, stumbled through the door. Rick stood and took the emergency kit from Ewan, before it could fall out of Ewan’s arms. “What are you up to?”

  Ewan laid the map on the small table. “I’ve been thinking about what you said and you’re right, this is taking too long. I was looking at going on a bit of a quick trip, no more than about six miles or so, to see what’s out there.”

  Rick slapped Ewan on the back. “That’s great news. We’ll make a fully-fledged archaeologist out of you yet. Where are you going to go?”

  “I think I’ll head this way. It’s slightly inland, but if they were going to the South Pole that’s the way they would’ve headed. It shouldn’t take me that long to cover six miles, should it?”

  Rick put the emergency kit on the table. “I don’t think so. You’ll most likely be back for supper with news of your discovery.” Rick picked up a pen and scribbled on a piece of paper. “Here, let me jot down that bearing, just in case. What else are you taking with you?”

  Ewan checked the power on the short-range radio. “I’m taking this and a small medical kit. Do you think the radio will cover that distance?”

  “No worries, mate. They have a range of at least twelve miles.”

  Ewan pulled a small orange rectangle from his emergency pack. “I’ve got this EPIRB thing, as well as some food just in case.”

  Rick took the cold conditions Emergency Personal Individual Rescue Beacon, or EPIRB, from him and ensured it was set to the correct frequency. “I’ll switch this thing on now. That way you can be tracked from camp.”

  “What do you mean?” Ewan asked.

  “These EPIRB’s are specifically designed for adverse envir
onments. The regular emission of a passive locating mark allows it to be picked by one of the receivers we’ve here at the site. Rick handed the EPIRB back to Ewan. “There, it’s good to go. Make sure it’s strapped to you or the vehicle at all times in case you get a little off track.”

  A wide grin spread across Ewan’s face. “No worries, mate. I’m off before I get roped into some other task.” He bundled his equipment into his backpack and headed for the door. Ewan paused at the door and turned. “Get that bottle of whiskey out. I think there’ll be plenty to celebrate tonight.”

  DIANNE LEANT BACK in her chair looking content with the day’s proceedings and the evening’s meal. “Things moved along pretty well today. The ice blades are proving their worth, despite the need to regularly recharge them. Tomorrow should see us well past the entranceway.” She clasped her coffee in her hands to draw warmth from the cup. “Oh, and thanks for the meal, Michela, that was pretty good.”

  Michela graciously nodded. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. Speaking of eating, where’s Ewan? I’ve never known him to miss a meal. Even when he was seasick he still managed to keep something down.” The group chuckled at Ewan’s love of food.

  “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen a lot of him since lunch. He didn’t end up succumbing to the fate of getting stuck on the toilet did he?” Rob asked.

  Allison placed her knife and fork together on her plate. “I was there about half an hour ago and I was the only one.”

  An uneasy feeling settled over Michela. Searching the group’s faces, her stomach sank at Rick’s enigmatic features. “Rick, you wouldn’t know where Ewan is, would you?”

  Rick wiped his plate with a bread roll. “As a matter of fact he did say something to me this afternoon.”

  Sarah shifted in her seat. “And what would that be?”

  “We were talking about Antarctica and the other explorers who’d been down here. I might have mentioned to him the idea this camp was a staging base and that there might be other areas yet undiscovered not far from here. I think he mentioned something about going and having a look for a couple.”