by Douglas Falk
“Huh. How depressing,” said Jamie.
“Yes, quite so. Anyway, the shipments…most of what we have here is delivered from New Zealand. Now and then they deliver us fresh fruit and vegetables, which is a luxury here as far as we are concerned.”
They followed Coulson to the end of the hallway and turned right, when another even longer corridor stretched out. They walked to the very end of it, and Coulson halted by a series of doors at the end of the hallway.
“Here we are, my tired guests! Here are our seven rooms reserved for Lockheed Martin employees. All of them are currently vacant, and there’s only five of you. So take your pick, and make yourselves at home. They are all identical in size and design, so I wouldn’t spend much time contemplating which ones to pick.”
The rooms appeared to be so close to one another from the outside that they might even have connecting doors. Seydoux pointed at the door in the middle. “I claim that one.”
“As you wish,” said Coulson.
John wondered if it was a calculated decision to claim the middle room.
I still don’t trust him. Does he want the one in the middle to keep an eye out on us in case we are up to shenanigans during the night? Whatever it is, better to take a room far away from his prying eyes.
“I’ll take the one on the far left,” said John.
William quickly followed suit and selected the one next to John’s, while Jamie and Nathan picked the rooms on Seydoux’s right. John was relieved over the fact that there was now a one-room gap between his and William’s rooms and the Canadian’s, eliminating any risks of the latter’s potential eavesdropping attempts. Coulson gave each and every person in the group a key to their own room and bade them good night.
“I’ll be in the entry hall if you need me all night. You can reach me by calling me on the telephones in your rooms; there’s a direct link to my telephone. You’ll call me up directly by just pressing 1 and wait for the beep. Is there anything else before I wish you a good night and sweet dreams? I think you’ve earned it.”
“Could we have some food served to our rooms? Like, now?” asked William.
“This base is not a hotel, nor is it a hostel for lustful adventurers. Our cooks are fast asleep, and the breakfast is served at five. Not before.”
“Can we take a shower? We’ve been sweating our socks off for weeks, and I think that I speak for everyone when I say that we would love nothing more than changing these rags and to wash ourselves clean. It would be heavenly if you could arrange something like that,” asked Nathan.
“I’m afraid not. I understand that you lot would like a bath, but for now we can only offer you lodgings. The water here is rationed—we are only allowed to shower twice a week, and it’s under strict guidance as to prevent our fresh water from running out. I am sorry, but we cannot risk it tonight for you. Tomorrow, perhaps. I will ask around. Good night! And sleep well,” she said. She walked off and left the quintet standing there outside their long-awaited comfortable beds.
“My friends,” said Jacques just before they went for their keys. “You have fought like warriors out there, and you deserve a good night’s sleep now. All of you. I could not have done it without every single one of you courageous, brilliant human beings. We shall rest here for about three or four days, and then I’ll take you back again. We’ll board the Savannah and return to Perth…and then, our work is done, mes amis.”
“Good God, Jacques, we only just arrived here! I will have a look around tomorrow and head out when the Sun’s still up. Don’t even talk to me about us being homeward bound…not yet. We have to rest first,” said Nathan grumpily and unlocked the door to his room, went inside, and closed it immediately.
“I will follow that wise man’s example,” said John drowsily and opened the door to his room. He threw his jacket on the ground carelessly and peeked out of the door to bid them farewell. “See you all tomorrow, comrades,” he said and locked the door. The room was completely dark, and John searched for the light switch, which he eventually found with trembling fingers. He lit up the room.
Oh my God. I’ve never been so happy in my entire life to lay eyes on furniture again. Chairs, a couch…and oh yes. A bed. I don’t care if the bed is from Hästens or IKEA. I’m getting stuck in.
He threw the rest of the clothes on the carpet and stripped himself fully naked. He jumped on top of the bed and slammed into the mattress with his back facing the ceiling. He took five deep breaths and exhaled slowly. He began laughing out loud.
How in the world did I end up here? Just a couple of months ago, I was aimlessly going through the motions at Stockholm University like a zombie. Imagining a future where I’d work for the Man my whole life. Now…I am at world’s end.
He rolled over on his back and looked up and studied the room. It had a sterile aura with dull, greyish tapestries, and the floor looked worn out and aged. The room was tiny—about the size of an average second-class boat cabin. But he did not complain.
I am going to sleep all night, wrapped around in these warm covets, and rest my head on this lovely pillow…and cursed is he who wakes me from this.
John succumbed to his weariness and drowsed off after only a minute.
—
He woke up with a jolt and found himself on some stiff surface flat on his back. He opened his eyes. Everything was black, pitch black. Complete darkness.
Where am I?
He wiggled around on the raspy floor of whatever craft he was in. He was certain that he was in some sort of air bound craft, as the wind came blowing through him at speeds he had never felt before. And then, he felt it. Hypothermia. He shivered down to the very marrow of his body, and he felt as if he was about to faint. He checked the pulse at his exposed wrist.
My heart is beating slowly…slowly…slowly.
He crawled around flailing his arms, trying to find a hold of something to cover himself with, like a blanket. But he saw nothing. He felt the hair rise on his arms as he rolled around on the floor, which felt leather or fibre by the touch of his fingers. His body now started to completely shut down, and he struggled to breath, as his lungs seemed to give up on him for every passing second. As the impending fear of death came sneaking up on him, he began to hyperventilate. Muscle spasms jolted through his legs and arms, and he was certain that it was only seconds away until his heart would stop beating.
I will die now.
Just as he felt as if all hope was lost, he was blinded by a red, flaming light source just above him. He looked straight up and saw a large burner breathing flames into a huge cloth above, shaped like a dome.
Wait, that’s not just any type of cloth. The burner is spewing flames into…an envelope. I’m beneath a balloon envelope. I’m in a hot air balloon!
The extreme pain and the fears of impending death seemed to have magically flown away, and he felt fit as a fiddle all of a sudden. He rose to his feet in the wicker basket and reached his pale hands up towards the burner, and he felt the warmth of it pummel through his body. Suddenly, he heard a hissing voice from behind. “Seek, and you shall find. Seek the Prussian eagle’s final resting place, and you shall be enlightened. The bird of prey lies buried where the ivy grows.”
He spun around and looked around. Only air. Emptiness. There was no one there. He could not see a thing apart from the burner and the inside of the wicker basket.
“Monsieur Piccard?” stuttered John. “Monsieur Piccard? Auguste, is that you?”
The hissing voice did not reply from the dark this time. Instead, a loud thud was heard from above.
Knock, knock, knock.
John woke up with a jolt once again, this time for real.
What the hell?
“John! John!” whispered a voice from the other side of the door. The voice kept uttering his name. John rose to his feet and walked to the door. “What is it, William? I’m trying to sleep.”
“We have to get out of here. Now, in the dead of night. It is our only chance if we want
to accomplish our mission. Let me in. We have to talk.”
18
John opened the door slowly and let the visitor inside, fully dressed as he was. Clad in the same garb as he had been during the entire walk to Amundsen-Scott, William seemed to be in a rush to depart the premises.
“What time is it?” asked John and rubbed his eyes.
“About five o’clock. Almost sunrise. I’ve been thinking about something you said the other day, John. About the end justifying the means.”
“Forget about it and go to bed. I was clearly out of my element suggesting that we’d steal the sled and all th—”
“No! You were right. No cities were ever conquered without bloodshed. No wars have ever been won cleanly. It would be lovely to stay put here for a couple of days more, eat good food, and have the opportunity of chatting away with top scientists and military men at the dinner table. But that is not why we came here, is it? We came here to lift the veil, and so we shall. We went through bloody hell to reach this place, but we have a long way to go yet. The greatest adventure is what lies ahead.”
John allowed a moment to pass for his words to truly sink in. “Yes, you are right…though, as a history buff I object to the idea that no army ever conquered a city without bloodshed, but that does not matter right now. We have a long way to go yet, and we can’t settle in here and get all comfy.”
“Exactly, John. We are so close, so close to revealing something monumental and exposing it to the world…if we play our cards right. Where’s the sled now, with all our gear?”
John was still in a dizzy state after having just been yanked away from the land of dreams. “Uh…hmm. We dragged the son of a bitch into the entry hall and left it there, if I remember correctly. So, it’s still there unless Coulson or someone else moved it.”
William walked around nervously in the tiny, cramped room and stared into the walls. “Good. Wise up, John. We are leaving in ten minutes.”
“What? Are you serious?”
“Yes. Now is the time, before the others awake. And don’t worry about whether this plan is morally right or ethical. Seydoux, Barnaby, and Vickers will survive here. They are safe, even though we do have to snatch their equipment too. Seydoux will be furious over the fact that he won’t be able to personally hand us over to my father and collect his reward, but he’ll have to live with that. And besides, maybe my father will pay him anyway for good measure. We don’t have time to dwell about these things. Let’s go. Are you with me?”
John pondered for about three seconds, and then he nodded in approval. He got dressed and put on his thermal underwear, and the rest of his winter outfit he wore all the way to Amundsen-Scott. At last, he put on his thick black winter boots by the brand of Gore-tex, which he had bought from L&P Nierenburg last autumn at one of their posh stores in uptown Östermalm.
“I am ready,” he said.
They scurried out of the room and went out to the corridor from whence they came only a few hours ago. John threw a fleeting glance at the framed photographs of Richard Byrd, Roald Amundsen, and Robert Falcon Scott as the pair whisked through the hallway they had navigated through with Coulson last night. William rushed through the corridors, so he did not have any time to spare. William was firmly pointed towards the entry hall and the sled. They came to the end of the corridor that connected with the entry hall, and things started to look familiar.
There it is! The bastard. Right where we left it. And the cargo’s still there, from what I can see.
Right then and there, John saw Coulson sitting in the corner of the great entry hall slouched over a Mac computer.
Damnit! I had forgotten all about her…and I guess so did William.
Coulson was startled by their clumsy arrival in the entry hall and rose to her feet.
“Gentlemen! Can I assist you in some way?” she asked, mildly surprised by the fact that two of her guests were up and about in the middle of the night dressed for outdoor activities.
“Well hello, Paige!” said William. “We just wanted to blow the cobwebs and head outside for a while. It isn’t winter down here yet, so you can’t halt me with threats of a lockdown just yet. We just felt the need to head outside and stargaze for a short while. We saw the Aurora Australis on the way here, about two weeks past. I’ve heard that at Amundsen-Scott you can see the lights even clearer.”
Coulson bought it. She nodded. “That is correct. The night sky is surreally beautiful this time of year. Go out and look, then—but be careful. Even though winter is not upon us yet, it can still be freakishly cold out there.”
“Thank you, we will make sure of that,” said William.
Coulson returned to her slouching position by the Mac computer.
“Oh, and just one more thing,” said William.
Good God. We are so close. Now is no time for chin-wag, William.
“I’ve always been told,” he continued, “that you fellas get together and watch John Carpenter’s The Thing as an annual tradition some time of year. Is it true?”
Paige Coulson stroked her red hair and chuckled loudly.
“It is, actually. Twice a year, in fact. I’ve been here for five years, so I pretty much know all the lines in that movie by heart. So, yeah. It’s not just an urban legend. We do love us some Carpenter.”
John and William laughed in unison by what she said and then proceeded to walk casually to the entry gate where the sled lay. William shoved his hand inside and fondled the inventory to make sure everything was still there.
“Food, water, and equipment for five is still here. Let’s move…quietly. Stealthily. Don’t let her see us leaving with the sled in tow,” he whispered to John.
John peeked by the wall and tried to see what Coulson was doing. She was, as usual, staring at her Mac computer.
“Now. The coast is clear; she’s miles away.”
They opened the gate, and the falling snow came pouring into the hall. They dragged the sled out of there as quickly as they could and closed the doors.
“There. Now, John…in the name of everything you hold dear, run! I mean, let’s move!”
It was then, in that very moment, that John for the first time began to doubt the veracity of their quest. “But…where? Where do we go from here? This is your idea. We’ve come to the South Pole! We are at the very spot where all official maps, longitudes, and latitudes can no longer be trusted. How do we find the right course further south so that we don’t just end up where we started by going in circles?”
William was not fazed. “I know how to walk in a straight line, John. I learned how as a kid when I served in the Scout Corps of Sweden. There are many tricks. First off, we shall follow the compass, as it is still functioning, yes?”
John reached for the compass in his pockets and revealed it.
“Well, it isn’t spinning in all directions, if that’s what you are saying. It’s not acting as I thought it would at the South Pole. It points to the North.”
“How many times do I have to tell you that the South Pole does not exist? It’s just a ceremonial South Pole, and the compass acts accordingly. Anyway, for as long as the compass still works, we will simply walk in a straight line towards South. And in case the compass does begin to malfunction due to electromagnetic anomalies I suspect that we will encounter further down the road…well, there are some old-school tricks in the book we can make use of. The best old method is to drag a pole or a stick behind us. We drag it constantly through the snow to make sure we walk in a straight line, avoiding any concerns that we might walk in circles.”
“That…that makes sense. Maybe because I’ve never been a Scout myself. I played the clarinet as a kid.”
“My father enlisted me when I was like nine years old, so it wasn’t by my own accord. I hated those years when I looked back as an angsty teenager. But in hindsight, I can only bow down and say that the whole experience was most educative for me.”
William grabbed hold of the handle of the sled and squeezed it t
ightly.
“All right, John. Time to start walking. Dead reckoning south is the way, and we must not falter…not even for a moment. If we end up walking in circles we will die of starvation or freeze to death in this no man’s land. Follow me, John. I’ll lead the way.”
By Antarctic standards, the temperature outside was mild. The Sun was on the rise, and she illuminated the white, desolate area around them. The headwind that tormented them on the way to Amundsen-Scott had died off, and even the snowfall seemed to peter out. He trudged through the snow next to William and the sled in tow…and kept drifting away to that soft, comforting bed inside the base that he had been tucked into only an hour ago. Not to mention that breakfast that was promised.
I’ll never get that chance of tasting what they are going to serve the scientists in just an hour from now. Omelette, bacon, sausages, cheese, fried tomatoes…
“Halt! Arrête!”
The loud, booming voice came from behind of them, and it was all too familiar. They both spun around 180 degrees in tandem, commingled by fear.
Oh no. No. How did he…how did he know? How did he know that we left?
Jacques Seydoux stood there, his boots firmly on ground with murder in his eyes and a pistol in his right hand pointed at them both. He looked like an enraged grizzly bear with his large, encompassing fur coat wrapped around him.
“Mes amis,” he called out calmly. “What do you think you are doing?”
They were petrified. John looked into William’s eyes, and he was as terrified as he was. John turned his attention back to the threat at large, who stood there with a drawn gun pointed at his heart. He did not know much about firearms or the like, but it appeared to be a Glock the Canadian held. John and William raised their hands in the sky.
“All right, don’t bother replying to that question, my little friends. Because I already know the answer. I heard the conversation in your room, Monsieur Wilander. Those walls are thin, and your skeevy little lies were intercepted, I’m afraid. I will point it out to la dame Coulson when I take you back to the station that their walls need to be looked at. And you will follow me to the station. Not only are you rats sneaking off in the dead of night…you are also taking our supplies? Merde, merde, merde. I cannot abide a cowardly, mischievous slight like that. Vermin like yourselves…there is nothing to be done about it, you offspring of parasites. I will have to deal with you properly.”
