by Douglas Falk
“Here you go. Cheers!”
They drank their brandy, and the atmosphere in the room mellowed out almost immediately. Now it was Jamie’s turn to peek outside the window.
“No land in sight, unless my eyes are playing tricks on me. The moon is quite something tonight, though, and the stars have come out to play. But we’ve got to be close…right?”
Nathan took another sip of brandy and nodded. “We are. We’re no longer talking days; we’ll be counting hours henceforth.”
Hours. Just hours away before our boots touch Antarctic soil and the second leg of our expedition begins. A trek that will lead us…where? I’m shaking, but I can’t tell what I am shaking for the most. Fear of death or something worse, or shear excitement of being on the trail of something monumental. The greatest secret ever kept and buried to the graves by those who orchestrated the deception in its infancy…shall be exhumed.
Nathan looked at the two youngsters with a curious look on his face. “So what’s your story, younglings? Why would you volunteer to board a cruise bound to the gates of hell, the most inhospitable place on Earth?”
William was well prepared for trap questions, and his tactic was deflection. “I could ask you the same, stranger. Why are you here?”
Nathan laughed. “Good question! Good question. I’m afraid my story is not all that thrilling, nor are my motives all that noble. I am doing this for the money, and that’s about it. Not just the money, though—I get a rush out of expeditions like these. Every time I return home from them, I can barely settle at home before I long for another adventure. Another mountain to climb or an uncharted land to conquer. If it exists, I want to claim it in my name. I won’t be able to participate in journeys such as these forever…I mean, I am nearly fifty. Make hay while the Sun shines and all that. In ten or fifteen years from now I doubt I’ll be in the mental or physical shape for something like this. Anyway, when Jacques called, I did not hesitate. I could not turn it down. Our last expedition was a bloody bitch, and we almost died on that Satan’s peak they call K2. But once we did get to the top…man. It was a feeling so exhilarating that it goes beyond all words. I was levitating, ascending to a higher plane, almost.”
“How new-age that sounds,” William said dryly and studied the man in front of him. He claimed to be in his fifties, which sounded about right—clearly, he was middle aged, as the wrinkles would tell that he was not born yesterday. He had a face with sharp features and sported an awe-inspiring moustache. What was even more striking than the moustache was his long, brown hair—which was so long it almost reached the belt on his trousers.
He looks like a crossover between a hippie from the seventies and a vagabond who’s slept more nights on the side of the road than indoors. A type of strong, hard man who wakes up at half past five every day and goes on a spontaneous two-mile jogging session.
“Well, I am on this ship because I want to explore new grounds and explore an area that is unlike any other swath of land on the planet. I want to be as far off from civilisation right now as possible. The further off, the more remote, the better for me. Also, wouldn’t mind seeing an emperor penguin in the flesh!” said Jamie.
William nodded approvingly. “Yeah, something like that for me too. Minus the penguins; I don’t really care about those all that much. Escapism, if you will. I needed a break from it all.”
He could see in Nathan’s eyes that he was not sold. “Why would you want to get away from anything? I know who you are, obviously. Everyone on this ship knows your story. You have all the freedom and material possessions that money can buy, and you can go wherever you please. People don’t run off to Antarctica to escape; people do not venture here looking for a vacation resort. Try the Bahamas for that or the Seychelles. I just find it hard to believe that you aren’t driven by something else…”
“Well, there are some life experiences that I would like to tick off that cannot be found back home, nor anywhere else. I want to stare Mother Nature in her eyes and tell her that I’m not afraid of her most gruesome creation…this continent, where life is nearly impossible to be found. Except for the odd flock of emperor penguins, as you know there is no indigenous population in Antarctica. Every continent on Earth has an indigenous population…every continent except this one. Antarctica is special, and I want to find out what secrets she is concealing from the unknowing world outside.”
Just as he finished explaining, his phone buzzed. He saw the WhatsApp icon blinking and clicked on the new message.
“Pardon me, my friends. I will head out for a while and blow the cobwebs away. Playing poker with you was my pleasure, even if I was robbed dry.”
Nathan burst into laughter, and even Jamie smiled.
“You can handle a minor financial hit, I’m sure,” roared Nathan and took another generous sip of brandy.
“That I can. I’ll see you both in the morning,” he said and opened the sliding doors to the deck and walked out into the cold. Almost immediately, he stumbled on his feet as strong winds came blowing through.
These polar winds are murderous. Is he really weathering these storms out here somewhere by the bow, as he said?
He grabbed a hold of the railing and carefully slid himself towards the very front of the ship. Wondering if John had made the sane decision of going back inside, he saw the shape of someone standing right by the bow of the ship with his head tilted up, looking at something in the night sky.
“John!” he cried, but the shout was drowned out by the blowing winds and the sound of waves crashing into the sides of the vessel. John did not hear him scream.
“John!” he walked up behind him and touched him gently on the back, and John flinched like an arrow loosed from a bow.
“Jesus! Scaring me like that, good grief! I could have fallen off.”
“We ought to go inside,” said William and shivered. “Each second is more of a torment than the last. It’s not a good idea to be out here for longer than necessary, and especially not on your own.”
“Well I’m not alone now, am I?” he said. “I thought it would be a good idea if you’d give me a rundown on the others since I assume you’ve been socializing with them all night. What do you think of them? I’ve only barely talked to them, and that was yesterday. I haven’t been in the mood for any sort of get-together ever since we boarded…for whatever reason. I’ve been dwelling a lot, trying to mentally steel myself for what is to come.”
“I like them both. They seem like decent companions. Well, thus far. Looks can…”
“Be deceiving. Yes. I talked to Jacques Seydoux out here not too long ago. That fellow…I don’t know, honestly. I don’t know what to make of him. He strikes me as a volatile man with a short fuse. The type of creature who shoots first and thinks later. It’s like…it’s like he knows that we are up to something. Well, at least that I am up to something. I don’t know how he feels about you.”
“I don’t know, to be honest. We’ve barely spoken since we met him at the docks one week ago. The little we’ve spoken since has just been general courtesies. He’s very keen on sucking up to me, for obvious reasons.”
“Yes, of course,” said John. “Either way, Seydoux gives me the creeps. We have to keep an eye on him.”
“We’ll keep an eye on him together, then.”
They did not speak any further on the matter of the crew and looked out on the endless seas together in silence. The winds had calmed down, and the only sound now they could hear was the hustle and bustle from the cruise motor and the waves pounding the ship in an endless array of loud splashes.
“We are so far away now, John. Further away from any civilised area either of us ever have been. So far away, and so nearby to our destination. We will be there come morning, if the captain’s time estimation still holds. I will speak to the captain myself before clocking in for the night. I just want to tell you, John, that if anything goes south on this expedition, I am sorry for luring you in. This was my little project all along, after
all. I should be held accountable should things turn bad.”
“Stop it. We’ve talked of the hurdles to come and the dangers we will face for ages now. I know what I’m getting thrust into. I came on my own accord, and I was acting by my free will. I am ready for this,” he said and gave his friend an amicable look.
His answer seemed to delight William, and they experienced a moment of complete solace and trust aboard the ark en route to the ends of the Earth. William looked to the west and then to the east.
“Captain James Cook sailed these waters, almost precisely where we are right now. Towards the end of the eighteenth century, the Admiralty ordered him to return to the Southern Ocean to map the distances around Antarctica. It took him no less than three years to circumnavigate the entire continent. Cook and his crew must have suffered through bloody hell during those three years they were posted in these parts. Three years of bone-chilling temperatures, frostbite, and having to do battle with the merciless sea every day. I cannot recall if they ever set foot on Antarctica, but if they did make land they could not have stayed there for long. This place, John, it’s like it is designed to keep us out of here. I don’t think we are meant to be here.”
“What do you mean? Are you saying we live inside a simulation?”
“We just might be…but that’s a discussion for another day. As you know, this place is as about as lively as a nuclear winter. It is almost entirely dead—no plants, no indigenous population, and barely any wildlife to talk of. If this world is created, which we have come to believe…by something so advanced and beyond us mere mortals in every sense of the word…I believe this continent is shaped by our God to be as inhospitable as possible. He wants us to stay away. He has put up a do not enter sign, and he is spelling it out. God, I sound like a lunatic. Do I make any sense right now?”
“You don’t…I understand what you mean. Especially since the North Pole is so hospitable and lush.”
“The anomalies of the poles are one of those first conundrums about the globe model that just rubbed me the wrong way when I looked into it. According to the globe model, the Earth is tilted on its axis and we experience summer and winter depending on where we are in space during our elliptical orbit. What makes no sense is that when we are the furthest away from the Sun, about three million miles in fact…that is when we have our summer in the North. Can you wrap your head around that? Those blazing hot days back home in July when the Sun fries everything that crawls, they say that we are three million miles closer in the winter. Nonsense.”
“I agree about that, and I don’t believe in the heliocentric explanation for the seasons at all. It is beyond childish. However, there is one thing I could not stop thinking about just before you came out here. I’ve been stargazing right here on this spot for hours. And it occurred to me that there’s a problem with the stars that no flat-Earth model has explained yet.”
“The deciphering of the southern stars is of paramount importance, John. I agree. We still don’t know what’s going on up there.”
John pointed at the bright star he had been gazing at the most. “You see that star? That’s Sigma Octantis, as you may know. Here, the starfield rotates…”
“Counter clockwise, yes. As opposed to the clockwise rotation in the North.”
“So how would that work, and why can’t we see Polaris from where we are at right now? If we’re on a sphere after all, it checks out as it is supposed to. On the ball you would not be able to see Polaris from where we’re at since we are on the other side of the ball and can’t see through it.”
“I don’t know, John. I’m being honest here. But remember this—just because the rotation of the stars seemingly work on the globe does not mean that we are now back to being monkeys spinning on a ball and that you could just throw out everything we’ve just been through and pretend that there are no problems with the sphere. What it means is that we have more work to do, and it will take many years to truly map this place out. Remember, John, they’ve had thousands of years constructing their reality making sure the mathematics checks out. We’ve had no more than five years. Eventually we will have this place mapped out, whether it be tomorrow or long after I’m dead. Who knows if it will happen in my lifetime. As for Polaris, while you cannot see it from this latitude…did you know that you can sight it from the Canary Islands? It is just way too far south, even though the Canary Islands are still in the northern hemisphere…or hemisplane, if you will…it would be impossible. There are so many questions left to answer, like the true age of the Earth. I don’t believe for a second that this place is billions of years old, but how many years has it stood firm? Who am I to say; I don’t know.”
“Do you think we’ll ever have this placed fully mapped out?”
“Oh, I’d love that. One day, it may happen. The South is the key—in the North, we have pretty much everything covered. But when it comes to the South, it’s still a mystery of sorts. Just take the flight routes on an AE map—in the North, the flight routes taken by commercial airplanes make far more sense on a plane than a sphere. Everything checks out. Below the equator, however, that is when things start to get wonky. A flight from Argentina to Australia takes about twelve to fifteen hours in the real world, but on the AE map…it does not add up, if the AE map is correct. The distances between points in the South are stretched, so it would seem like the southern flights debunk the flat Earth at first glance, as it does not seem to work if the AE map is true. I am not convinced, though. There might be other factors at play, such as wind currents and favourable jet streams in the far South that help the airplanes to fly faster. Like I’ve said before—they are absolutely and unquestionably concealing something monumental down here in the South. In the North, you can track all airplanes by their GPS position, but in the South, once the plane is air bound, they switch the GPS tracker off, all of them! I wish I would have showed it to you on Planefinder when we were in Perth. They are deceiving us by hiding their true cruising altitude and their real position on Earth. The GPS trackers are magically turned on again some minutes before the plane arrives to their planned southern destination. There’s chicanery going on here, clearly. They are hiding the real flight paths that airplanes take when traversing the South.”
John sighed. “The deeper down this rabbit hole I get, the more it feels like I truly know nothing. Anything is possible from this point onwards.”
William nodded. “Precisely. The Earth is a complex algorithm to decode, for sure. We have to be humble enough and admit that there are just some things we don’t know of right here in this very moment, and all we can do is speculate…for now.”
John stretched his body. He had been standing perched by the bow for far longer than what would be prudent, and he felt numb. He looked across the ocean for the hundredth time, expecting to see ice walls emerge at the horizon. But there was nothing, only the miles-wide ocean for as far as the eye could see…at least in the cover of darkness.
“What do you think we will run into when we arrive there? What kind of muscle will we face, so to speak? Surely, they could not hope to cover the entire shoreline with military outposts even if they tried. It’d be far too wide, even if they had all the manpower in the world at their disposal.”
William shivered. “An excellent question. I’ve been musing over this issue for quite some time, and I have concluded that we are in the dark here, I’m afraid. We don’t know. Nobody knows. We can only hope for the best, and that our hopes of arriving there stealthily will be realised. Like you said, whatever the size may be of that area we call Antarctica truly is, it is way too vast to set up a perimeter around it, if you will. There’s not a patrol boat fleet large enough if you could even make one up with a magic spell wand. You’d literally need millions, so I am cautiously optimistic. Our creator crafted this world cleverly enough that there might actually be very little need for the kind of muscle you are speaking of. Mother Nature takes care of trespassers herself. No man can survive in Antarctica barring that
they bring an army under their command like Admiral Byrd did in the forties during Operation High Jump and Operation Deep Freeze. There’s nothing down there. No McDonalds, no Walmart. If you screw up, you will freeze to death within hours, and your corpse will be covered by snow even quicker.”
“Charming,” said John, and he made no attempts of hiding how morose he sounded.
William had already set the stage with his dour tidings. Once again, they found themselves at a loss for words and fell into a state of silence. The waves that plunged the ship only moments before seemed to have gone away, and the only sound remaining was the humming sound from the engine below. Everything was still. John was contemplating by what they would find at the end of the road and could not resist the urge to ask the expert about it once more.
“What do you think?” he asked. “A physical barrier somewhere down there…or more land beyond…or perhaps both? You’ve thought about this way longer than I have, if I dare to guess. Every day ever since you woke up to this, this thought must have pummelled the back of your head.”
William stared out across the ocean and nodded slowly.
“I most certainly have, John. Both possibilities are equally as enticing, but which one is more probable? I don’t know. A physical barrier out there somewhere would be logical. A pressurised system needs a container, and if there is a dome on top it would make a whole lot of sense. If you pinned a scientist to the wall and asked him or her how the atmosphere of Earth could coexist adjacent to the infinite vacuum of space, they would stutter with their words. While some may conjure up a pseudoscientific theoretical excuse, they would all stand there like a deer in headlights. Because I think that deep down, they know that what we’ve been told is hogwash. I think there is credence to the idea that the powers that be are indeed hiding landmasses beyond Antarctica. The power elite would want to conceal those potential lands for obvious reasons. Especially if they are lush and sprawling with resources, like Admiral Byrd hinted at. If there are minerals and precious gems to be mined in Antarctica like Byrd said, pretty much all major corporations would have set up shop in Antarctica and mined the hell out of it, but they don’t. And you know why—Antarctica is under world government quarantine.”
