by A M Russell
‘I… err thank you Hanson.’ I picked up my small tool bag.
‘Just one thing,’ said Hanson standing with legs planted firmly, ‘you need to stop taking on other people’s duties as well.’
‘Oh. Sorry. I’ll take that on board Hanson.’ I straightened up ready to go back into the camp door. But Hanson regarded me strangely. I glanced at the spike; the gauge was moving slowly but visibly downwards. Hanson didn’t seem like he was going to move; and he was blocking my path back inside.
‘Is there anything else Hanson?’
‘No. It’s just…’
‘What is it? Hanson? Sir?’
‘Nothing.’ he shook himself, ‘It’s just I thought I saw… It’s nothing at all…’ Hanson moved to let me pass. I felt overwarm from a sudden temporary panic. When I got inside I striped off my outer suit; and then the inner suit. I was down to just four layers with the fine wool sweater on the top. Mine was a dark blue. I started to take it off.
‘Keep it on.’ said Hanson, ‘You don’t want to remove layers too quickly. Just wait ten minutes and rest. Everyone’s inside.’
I picked up the two suits and other kit and hung them up in the drying cupboard. Hanson was taking of his two outer most layers. He tied a bandana round his head, and picked up a book he’d left in the prep room and we went through to the main space. Everyone was sat round the table just as dinner was served out onto our camping plates. Stew and bread. Marcia had been baking now we had a camp that would be established for longer than one night. I had offered to help where I could, but now Hanson had effectively warned me off, I would have to find other ways of spending what little spare time I had in less productive and more neutral ways. We chomped through the stew and everyone asked for seconds. James warned them to make room and then brought out chocolate cake and a strawberry flan. We all made unashamed pigs of ourselves and Joe and Jared asked for seconds of that as well. Curly Pete, who seemed more tired than usual refused another helping and was duly sent early to bed.
Later Hanson and Oliver joined Joe, Jared and Adam for a last poker session. They were still playing for washers. At least they were when Hanson joined in. I guess the sneakiest thing I’ve ever done was keep a faithful record of stakes and what they represented. And of course who won what in the game. I seemed to balance out fairly evenly over time. I got the feeling that Hanson as team leader couldn’t officially approve of it. But he seemed to take the view that what people did in their down time was really up to them. I idly wondered if Marcia was on the menu tonight. Gross I know. But I had begun to wonder if it might already be over. But then reasoned that she would think it wise to stay as a couple; until she was able to be set free from her doomed love triangle of Her, Hanson, and Hanson’s Ego: only a few weeks.
I had never really got to grips with certain differences between knots. I think I probably was in the category of No Excuse; on the understanding that I worked in a place where such things ought to be common currency. That was according to Jules. The one with whom I had the somewhat weird yet illuminating conversation a while back.
'It's advertising!' I said yet again. The inability for people to remember what I did for a living didn't annoy me; I often wanted to forget it myself; but what they substituted for that was often a job that implied by its very definition an ability to do a task that was currently and urgently in demand.
'Having trouble?' Joe came into the prep room with a med kit, after having tended to some grazed elbows and knees. At least no one ever thought me fit to tend their bumps and bruises.
'Yea. I'm supposed to fasten this, to this.'
'Semi-permanent fastening or temporary grip to carry it?'
'Temporary grip.' I answered.
'That would be a plank sling. Here give me the cord. I'll show you.'
I watched. It was really simple to do if you could remember it. I had a problem with that. I was better with diagrams that were colour coded, with instructions added.
‘Uh ok. Thanks.’ I had a go. Got it wrong. Tried again, and seemed to get it right. It was holding alright. Five minutes later I was going backwards and forwards with the pieces that formed a sled that bolted together to hold the scientific equipment. Today we would be testing the sled with sacks filled with snow to make sure everything wasn’t going to fall apart. Janey had annoyed Hanson quite a lot over this. She insisted that everything be tested and retested before they set out on the first short three day trip to set up the long term experiments and to do some others while they were there. We were also to collect samples. Earth, rock pieces and so on. And also do a snow core on the second round. This would be brought to End Base were Janey, Jules and Curly Pete would examine it and record every possible bit of information.
‘Couldn’t we take it back home with us?’ I asked Jules. He looked blankly at me for a moment. Then said distractedly ‘No. Err no…’ and walked away.
‘Don’t worry about him.’ said Curly Pete ambling towards me chewing gum, ‘His head is a bag of squirrels man!’
‘Yeah?’
‘Hey! I never met people I fitted in with quite so well before. I mean; puddings every night. I’m in student heaven. It’s just the lack of booze that’s disappointing.’
‘Well you know....’ I was almost certain he was joking about fitting in, I had a thought: ‘Are they tinned cherries?’
‘Tinned? Nah! Vacuum packed more like. You canna carry all the cans can ya?’
‘No. Too much weight.’ I admitted. I knew now why I could never have been a real scientist. It was those little details that made all the difference. I made a mental note to concentrate on obvious stuff like that in future. I’m not sure what I expected. But there was not a thing wasted. Even personal kit was limited to a certain weight. Only Nikolas was exempt; but that was to do with camera equipment so I suppose it didn’t really count in the same way. I wondered how long we would wait before the smaller group set off. On this pristine day where the snow lay thickly and there was time for leisure we built a snow man. That is the ones who weren’t busy testing the sled. Adam thought we ought to try doing an igloo. So we got two shovels to cut snow bricks and set about with a will. Myself, Adam, Jared, Joe and surprisingly: Oliver. He stood about, mainly squinting into the sun and smoking those small cigarillos that I took to be the same ones that I'd seen Hanson Inhaling back at base. Curly Pete was out with Janey, Jules and the sled. And Hanson had disappeared inside. He seemed to be spending more and more time doing his meditation in recreational time. Marcia was singing in the kitchen and tossing pancakes. She said they were crepes and I was an ignorant oik. Oliver gave the occasional helpful suggestion in his soft Welsh drawl and helped mark where to cut out the blocks. He turned out to be surprisingly good at designing things. The Igloo went up and the sun shone really brightly for about half an hour just as we completed it. Two of us could crawl inside at once and peek through the “window”; a small square porthole in the side.
‘It’s a pity we don’t have a piece of ice to make a proper window pane.’ Oliver stood back admiring our handiwork, just as Nikolas came back from a nearby rock ridge.
‘Hey Lads! Let’s get a picture!’ Nikolas seemed amused about something. He pointed behind his shoulder. ‘Just got one of Janey and the kids playing with the sled.’
We gathered round, the five of us, and Nikolas took a whole series of pictures. I suspected Adam was doing Bunny ears behind my head. But I felt flushed with that wonderful moment in the snow. There was something magical about our igloo, small as it was.
Later Nikolas came to me with a small 3 by 4 inch print of the group. It was a bright little window on an afternoon that was as carefree as any I could ever remember. I tucked it in my journal. That night, safe in my sleeping pod I wrote about the people here with more warmth than I had ever done before. It seemed that we were friends with a common purpose at last.
Morning came with fog and ice. The weather seemed unsettled. And swirls and spirals of what looked like pulverised diamonds d
rifted and coated everything outside. We all met in the main room. Hanson got everyone’s attention by banging a cup on the table. We all went silent.
‘Ok....’ Hanson seemed to be being magnanimous, ‘we all know that this isn’t the best weather for his sort of thing but there is shelter only two hours away and we can take the boundary trip in short stages. We’ve tested the sled, and everything’s ready.’ here he paused and looked around, trying to catch any hint of dissent. For some reason no-one moved. There seemed to have been a change of mood overnight. The good will of the previous day had lasted into the evening and on to this morning. And for once the whole team were gelling together as one force. Privately I thought this was about the time the ground falls out from under your feet. But I knew instinctively that I would be in the dog house if I tried to express my doubts about setting off today. The ones who were staying at “End Base” were Marcia, James, Joe and Oliver. They would get a chance to take a day trip out to view our handiwork if the weather and the time frame allowed it. Janey, Jules, and Curly Pete would take the motorised sled. The rest would follow on foot. That was Hanson, myself, Adam, Nikolas, and Jared. I was interested to know what it would be like to camp out in the wilds in the same sleeping space as Hanson and the others. I valued my privacy. But for four days I could maybe get to know the others in a bit better way. I felt that the absence of the two women might allow things to be a little more honest. While Janey, or even Marcia were in earshot one tended to amend one’s behaviour to suit the idea of what was expected. I personally was of the opinion that this was one of those things that if examined would prove to be utterly false. We all imagine that others are very different to how they are in fact. Somewhere along the way I must have acquired a thicker skin. I couldn’t think of anything I’d rather do than be here, about to trek the frozen outer land. I had almost forgotten what being at home felt like. I no longer imagined my home, or the garden or roses anymore. They seemed like a forgotten dream that fades as we awake. I had begun, I think, to become a devotee of this place. It had got into my blood and my brain. I had become part of the rhythm of the days and the patterns of snow fall; and the temperature measurements. I realised how alien back there had become, when I had been next to Hanson on the daily radio contact with George and Main Base. It was now like another world that I didn’t want breaking in on this one. I had completed my initiation and was ready for anything, no matter how strange.
We set out at eleven o’clock. The pack I shouldered was the one I had tied so long ago. Janey and her two assistants waved to everyone and set off at a steady pace. I noticed Marcia Kissing Hanson openly and wondered if they had made some peace. Marcia’s expression was complicated. All she said to me before we went was ‘Remember what I told you.’ This put a small cloud on what was otherwise a perfect day for me. An hour later I had forgotten it completely. Hanson was only taking us a short distance and there were so many caves in what I’d christened “Egg Land”, that a camp should be made within ten minutes whatever happened. We walked through a winter wonderland world, a Christmas card with the sprinkles of glitter and the graceful trees. Here there were trees. I was shocked at first. But in a brief period every year they flowered and flourished and the snow was gone for just a small time. A tiny jewel on the face of this terrible, beautiful, crystal and silent world. It was warm enough if we kept going. Our travel in the valleys between the egg rocks meant that we were sheltered from the wind. We would go to the edge of the egg land and there Janey would conduct the experiments. At the Christmas log hills that went on and on. Where the frozen mist was so thick that you could only catch glimpses of what lay beyond there. It looked like more of the same. Bars of land with black twigs and ice. On and on. I thought about it as we walked thought this sparkling valley, and I was horribly gripped with this most terrible desire. I wanted to walk out into it. To keep walking. To never stop. I wanted to see where it went. There were maps, but every one of them was vague and unhelpful. Only Adam seemed less than impressed by the landscape. And Nikolas stopped every half an hour to take pictures. He would have stopped more often but Hanson, quite rightly, would not allow it.
By three o’clock we were looking for a place to camp. We found a most suitable spot. A nice roomy cave that was sheltered by the frozen tangles of spongy green and black trees. The cave on inspection inside was dry and surprisingly warm. I helped the others set the mini dome inside the cave. There was plenty of room. And I was reassured by how homely it felt within 20 minutes or so. Adam stood looking with the binoculars towards the direction we would be travelling to in the morning. He seemed a little discomforted. I was surprised. But then remembered he was the one who told me I should make the one trip and not come again. I got the feeling that Adam didn’t share the wonder of the whole thing with the others. He was senior technical and maintenance. While everyone was getting kit ready he was the one who made sure the transport would still run. I thought of this sketch and wondered what it was he saw. The others were busy inside the cave so I asked him about it.
‘Oh… that. It’s the cabins on the pencil lands. You know. Where the visitors take their kills when they hunt.’
I didn’t like this at all. ‘But I didn’t see them.’
‘Well you wouldn’t, not now. I think that you need to be a sceptic to see them, just as you need to be a believer to see Aiden and the others.’
‘You didn’t see him?’
‘No. Of course not. There’s nothing there Davey. I think that all the people here have some serious mental issues. And the only reason I still keep coming is that one: I’m still alive and two: I’ve never succumbed to these visions or damn paranoia.’
‘Oh.’
‘Don’t get me wrong. I think it’s a gift. You see something, you really do. But there still has to be that touchstone of reality, there has to be someone who sees things as they really are without all of that.’
‘So you’re going to save us from ourselves?’
He turned to me, and with eyes that were clear and honest like Marcia’s and paused. He seemed to look beyond me. He swallowed. ‘No Davey. I’m not here to save you. You are all beyond my reach. It needs a miracle of a different kind. Unlike you; I know when and where to stop. I intend to live to see my family again.’
I digested this. Adam’s words were like a punch in the gut. I hadn’t thought about my family since we left. I had stretched the ties that bind so far that they had become thin as spiderweb silk. The question was: what did I need to do? What mental attitude did I need to choose? Was it the path of the “Sceptic” or the path of the “Believer”? I liked to feel I was a little of both. I looked out at the advancing shadows and saw beauty, not menace. There was no one else here. It was just science. Just measurements, and readings; and being cold. Yet as the snow again began to fall I wanted to walk and walk and never look back. I went inside.
*****
Six
I was stood with my back to an egg rock looking out over the rolled landscape. My chocolate logs were about Sixty feet each one; they curved neatly and slowly in a convex manner and then dipped sharply in a gap about a foot wide and about five feet deep. I tried to take the compass bearing again. I knew I was roughly facing north. But something was interfering with the needle. I moved back half a step. Nope. The needle still swung like a drunk at a party. I put it down on the ground. Worse. Now it was pointing at me. I went back to the gap where we had come in. This was indicated by bright fluorescent green pennants driven into the snow with huge spikes. A trail of orange pennants led to the science enclosure, a dome perched slap in the middle of a curved roll hill. It was surrounded by a pegged roped line of red pennants. Inside this rope were several spikes. The standard temperature recorder spikes; plus some special ones for measuring pressure and moisture levels and other stuff. Inside the dome were more complex pieces of equipment plus the sampling kit and small core cutter. The place was a hive of activity. Hanson was walking towards me. He passed me and went back through the egg
gap, and as I knew along a path for half a mile then round a sharp corner into a roomy cave where our boundary camp proper had been set up. Twenty minutes later he came back with a small battery pack case. He looked sideways at me and stopped.
'Don't be tempted to stray away from the pennants.' he said.
'I won't Sir.' I said, looking I hoped, concentrated and efficient. I had learned that this formal deference to Hanson's position helped in two ways. It made my position as a humble assistant clear; and also kept me out of the running for that over familiar relationship that I had seen between Hanson and some off the others. I didn't want to be confused by a blurring of boundaries now we were right out here. Plus it seemed to please him.
I put the compass away and looked round for another spot where I might get a better reading. I went just after the next orange spike, still well inside the roped out path. Tried again. This time it seemed to do what it was supposed to. I put a ground peg into the snowy earth at exactly that point and logged the measurement with the pennant's letter code. I had them clipped on the utility belt I carried today.
The base line for the readings was a marker at the gap. After I had put the ground pegs in I would map their positions exactly and compare the readings at each point. The real problem with mapping this bizarre land had, in the last hour becoming excruciatingly clear. The needle pointed in slightly different directions where I could get a reading. Or it pointed back towards the eggs. Or it just constantly moved, not settling in any direction. There were a number of theories as to why this was so. It could be concentrated areas of iron ore, or some kind of magnetic field that had many small nodes. It as if there was a lot of small poles and opposite poles. I had the dubious job of attempting to make sense of a football pitch sized area just outside the egg boundary.
