by Hannah Ross
The Ice Fortress
Frozen World Book II
By Hannah Ross
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are entirely the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, persons, or anything else is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be used, reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any manner by any means, known or unknown, without express written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Copyright © 2018 by Hannah Ross
All rights reserved.
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Chapter 1
Scott Buckley looked up at the aurora australis dancing across the deep blue Antarctic sky. The figures of light across the velvety darkness were enchanting, and he never grew tired of watching them – but by the end of the dark season, he would miss the sun more than words could say. The Great Sunrise would come soon, however, he knew. The sun would peek above the horizon, briefly at first, then gradually longer, until it settled up there for long months of light. Then it would be time for sowing, building, tending the fields, hunting and harvesting.
The valley of the Anai was the only place on the frozen continent of Antarctica where such activities were possible. The unique microclimate created by geysers allowed a permanent settlement of farmers and hunters to thrive there for thousands of years. He would never have believed this, though, if he had not seen it with his own eyes.
He looked up again, at the twisting greenish serpents of the aurora. It all came rushing back – his acceptance of the position at the McMurdo Antarctic research station; the global war that set the world aflame soon after; the life-changing encounter with the beautiful ancient culture, to which he had attached himself through his wife, the chieftainness Ki Tahan. The Anai Valley had become his home, though he still often traveled to McMurdo for purposes of work, research and communication.
He shook his head. There were chores to be done, which was why he stepped outside. The climate in the Anai Valley was tolerable even during the cold and dark season, but he could hear the winds howling overhead, above the mountain peaks surrounding the valley, and a freezing gust made him shiver. He started on his task – tightening the thick, double-layered, waterproof sealskin across the entrance to the house, to keep cold air from seeping in.
A man walked past, a tall, broad-shouldered, grave-looking fellow, his long yellow hair made into a braid that fell down his back. Scott recognized Ne Tarveg, and nodded. The man returned his nod politely, though perhaps not very cordially. “Greetings, Ki Arahak,” he said. He was one of the few who always used Scott’s Anai name.
“Greetings, Ne Tarveg. Going far?”
“No, just to dig for some flint to make new arrow-heads.” And, raising his hand in a gesture of farewell, Ne Tarveg walked on. He was never a man for small talk – not to mention that he and Scott had not started out on the best of terms. This, perhaps, was not to be wondered at, given that Ne Tarveg had once hoped to gain Tahan for his woman, and did not take kindly to being set aside in favor of some foreigner. However, the two were reconciled in the end, after Scott saved Ne Tarveg’s life. The big surly man did know how to lose with dignity.
Scott stepped back into the snug, circular stone house, which was warm and cozy with the light of oil lamps. These, as well as the brazier in the center, spread the smell of whale fat, but this had become so familiar that Scott hardly noticed it anymore. Tahan, who was kneeling by the brazier, smiled at him. She adjusted the cover of a thick clay pot.
“I heard you talking to someone outside,” she said.
“Oh, it was Ne Tarveg,” Scott said, sitting down cross-legged on the sealskin rug in front of the brazier, and picking up the cooing baby girl who was waving her fat fists and legs in the air. He made a funny sound with his tongue, and the baby smiled, looking the very image of her mother. “Hello there, Niri,” Scott said softly. It was still hard to believe that this little one was actually his daughter. Four-year-old Egan, Tahan’s son from her first marriage, joined Scott in his endeavors to make the baby laugh by tickling her tiny feet. It was so warm inside, indeed, that the little one felt quite comfortable with her arms and legs uncovered. Scott shrugged off his outer tunic as well, and moved closer to his wife.
“I should have figured it was Ne Tarveg,” Tahan said. “Anyone else would have stopped to chat for a bit.”
“He said ‘Greetings’. For Ne Tarveg, that was pretty talkative,” Scott remarked. Tahan gave a wry smile.
“He likes to hear you talk in Anai. Thinks it’s amusing. I heard him say so.”
Scott raised an eyebrow. “Is it?”
“Oh no, no,” she hastened to reassure him. “You are getting very good, actually.” But there was a mischievous glint in her eye.
Scott shook his head. “When I want an honest opinion, I know I must go to Omrek. Your brother doesn’t mind telling me that I talk as if through a mouthful of earth.”
Tahan laughed outright. “Come, Scott, let’s eat. The soup is ready.” She picked up a small, flexible grass mat, which she used to lift the cover of the clay pot without getting burned. Hot, delicious vapors rose into the air, and Scott’s mouth began to water as he smelled the fishy and gamey aroma of slowly simmered penguin meat. Long gone were the days when he felt squeamish about eating Anai food. Penguin, seal and whale were now as familiar to his palate as chicken, beef and pork.
Tahan got up and reached for one of the shelves, from which she pulled down a stack of beautifully polished clay bowls. These were newly made – just before Niri’s birth, in fact, when Tahan was seized by a powerful urge to rearrange and renovate everything about their dwelling.
Niri was born right here, on a birthing blanket spread right in the middle of the stone hut, while Scott was pacing nervously outside, biting his fingernails. He had wanted Tahan to go to the hospital at McMurdo, but the very idea made her laugh. “I don’t need a healer to have a baby, Scott,” she had said. “And besides, have they ever actually delivered a child? There are none at that strange place of yours. Our midwives have a lot more experience.” This, Scott had to concede, was true.
It didn’t make the wait any easier, however. Omrek, his brother-in-law, did his best to alleviate the tension with the help of a particularly choice and strong brew the Anai made by fermenting the tall valley grasses. A few deep swallows sent Scott into a lighter mood, but the first cry of the newborn sobered him up at once. When the tiny baby was placed in his arms, his eyes misted over and he blinked hard for several seconds. Then he looked at Tahan, who was propped up upon some pillows, tended by the midwives. She looked pale and exhausted, but she was beaming all the same.
“There she is, Scott,” she said. “Our daughter. Have you ever seen a baby more beautiful?”
He did not. He did not even imagine that so much beauty could exist condensed into such a tiny form. The baby’s lids had the heavy fold of the Anai, and the light fuzz on her head was golden-white, almost transparent. But something about the shape of her little rosebud mouth and her high forehead, Scott fancied, was a bit like him. He swallowed the lump that rose in his throat, carefully knelt by Tahan, kissed the top of her head, and gave her the baby. Tahan unlaced the front of her sealskin tunic and put the child to her breast. Her eyes, shining with joy, met his.
“We have been blessed,” she stated, and Scott pressed her hand.
“Beyond anything I ever hoped for,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion.
… Even now, months later, Scott found it hard to believe that this
beautiful family was really his; that, after losing his old home, he had gained a new one in this strange new land on the very edge of the world.
They started eating, spoons clacking against the clay bowls. The spoons were made from whale ivory, expertly polished, with an intricate pattern carved upon the handle. They had been one of Omrek’s wedding gifts, and Omrek was probably the most talented ivory carver in the entire village.
“Father,” little Egan said, setting aside his empty bowl, “you promised we’d go to Uncle’s house later.”
It still felt strange to Scott to hear his stepson call him Father, though the little boy had taken to it quite naturally. It pleased and pained him at the same time, and Tahan, he knew, had mixed feelings about this as well. Egan did not remember his real father, Tahan’s first husband, who had been killed in an accident when he was just a baby. A corner of Tahan’s heart would always be reserved for Daygan, just as Scott would always remember Brianna, lost among so many other things back home. He had come to terms with that. Jealousy of the dead was an unworthy feeling.
“Egan, let your Ta have some rest,” Tahan said, affectionately mussing up the boy’s hair. Ta, the Anai abbreviation of the word Father, came more easily to her.
“I don’t mind, Tahan. I had meant to go and see Omrek anyway. I thought you might want to come along, if you swaddle Niri really tight.”
“Some other time. It’s getting too chilly, and besides, there are some things I need to finish doing around here. You and Egan go – and Egan, mind, behave yourself. Tell me later how Manari feels,” she told Scott quietly as he leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. “It’s her first pregnancy, and I know she has been sick this while.”
Scott pulled on his parka – one of his lighter ones, not the heavy double-layered one he used to put on for trips outside the valley and away from its blessed warmth – and went out, holding Egan by the hand. The little boy was bouncing up and down, all excited about going out after some days of being cooped inside the house. The dark season was always a trial for children, who had to be confined all too often.
Omrek’s house, newly built just before his union with Manari, was abuzz with activity. Several of his wife’s little nephews where there, playing a game akin to marbles with little balls carved out of seal bone. Egan, quite happy to be in the company of other youngster, promptly joined them, doubling the amount of noise. Manari, who did not seem to mind, smiled at the children indulgently as she sat upon a cushion, busily working on a little outfit made out of seal pup skin, which Scott presumed was for the baby soon to be born.
“I hope Tahan is well,” she told Scott, pulling out a bowl with wafer-thin, salty slices of dried fish – the Anai equivalent of chips. Scott accepted with a nod of thanks and crunched on one. “I had not seen her in some days.”
“When we enter the light season, I daresay she will venture out with the baby more often,” Scott said.
“But Tahan will surely come and tend to you at the birth,” Omrek interposed, pressing his wife’s hand with tender reassurance. “She is a skilled midwife, though she has only had two children yet… Scott will do his best to amend this soon, though, yes?” he added with a smile, and a wink, which caused Scott to stammer in embarrassment, and Manari to shake her head.
“Omrek, that is tasteless.”
“That’s what Tahan would say,” Omrek nodded sagely, unfazed. “So, Scott, I am happy to say that Manari is feeling quite well now, and since there’s some time left till the birth of the baby, I can leave home for a few days… isn’t that so, my heart?”
Manari nodded. “I’ll be fine. You can go on your trip, just be back in time, or I will worry.”
Omrek looked as childishly enthusiastic as the little boys at their play. “So when can we set out?”
“Tomorrow, right after breakfast, I think,” Scott said. Though the sun did not rise during the long winter, the Anai still counted the passage of days by the movements of the stars. “We’re having a spell of nice clear weather, and I have two snowmobiles waiting for us at the base.”
Manari looked apprehensive. “I saw you riding one of those things once,” she told her husband. “It made me nervous.”
“Don’t worry, Manari. The snowmobiles are easy to handle, and Omrek did very well last time,” Scott assured her.
“We’re going out to play, Aunt,” one of the boys said.
“Not beyond the stone hedge,” Manari cautioned. “Your uncle and I won’t be chasing you all around the village.” The boys ran out, pulling on their parkas, and the house felt very quiet all at once.
Manari shook her head again and smiled. “I’m glad I thought of taking the boys off my sister’s hands today,” she said. “Some peace and quiet is nice with a new baby. You should bring Egan over more often, Scott. We’re always glad to have him, and he loves to play with the other children.”
The darkness of winter always induced people to sleep more than they usually would, and it posed no difficulty to tuck Egan in once the position of the stars indicated evening, and the blackness of the sky deepened. He now had a bed of his own behind a partition, right where his uncle Omrek used to sleep before he married and started a hearth of his own.
Little Niri was cozily tucked into a sealskin hammock hanging off an ivory frame, which was placed near her parents’ bed. Tahan snuggled under the furs next to her husband, her head resting upon his chest and softly rising and falling with each breath he took. Scott’s arms were folded around her, and his chin rested on the top of her head.
“If you don’t object,” he said, speaking quietly so as not to wake the children, “Omrek and I plan to go to McMurdo’s tomorrow.”
Tahan lifted her head and propped herself on one elbow, meeting his eye. “I don’t object,” she said, “though you know I worry when you travel in the dark.”
“It is nothing. I have made the way many times before, and the weather is supposed to be calm. Besides, if anything should happen, I will have my transmitter, and can call the station.”
“Ah, yes,” Tahan nodded. “That curious thing that passes voices from afar. Well, be back soon, husband. Egan misses you when you are gone… and so do I.”
“Once it is light, there will be helicopters at the base, and you can come as well.”
“I’d like that,” Tahan said simply. “It was interesting, visiting the place of your people.”
“Omrek thinks so too.”
“Oh, for Omrek it is much beyond interesting. He is utterly fascinated by everything that has to do with the place. He wants to know everything – was always that way. Curious… inquisitive.”
“He is a fast learner, too. And his English is getting really good. He can read the library books now, and he’s picking up more and more complex ones every time.”
“Ne Riorag isn’t too happy about it,” Tahan confessed after a little pause, as if she weren’t sure how much she ought to say.
“Oh?” Scott was surprised. Ne Riorag, Ne Tarveg’s father, was one of the most esteemed among the Anai elders. “Did he tell you so himself?”
“Yes, at the last meeting I had with the Council of Elders.”
“But why?”
“He says that the ways of the Others are not the ways of the Anai, and that though we are on good terms with them now, we ought to keep separate. He says that what was good for our fathers and grandfathers is good for us, and that an Anai man has no business dealing with the strange contraptions of the Others.”
“That sounds very… rigid,” Scott frowned. “You don’t think that way, do you, Tahan?”
“No, though the words of Ne Riorag found an echo among the elders – the older one gets, I guess, the more likely one is to reject something just for the fault of being new and unknown. I like to learn what you teach me about the people beyond the sea, Scott. But I’m not like Omrek either. I am happy with the way of the Anai, and don’t think we should bring the ways of the Others into the valley. We are well off just as we are.”
<
br /> Scott fell silent, lapsing into thought. For decades after the discovery of the Anai people, they had been isolated from any knowledge of the modern world due to a government policy that he had found patronizing and objectionable in the extreme. All this was changed now, however. The Anai came into contact with modern civilization, and the results were predictable. The West changed every culture it touched, and he did not foresee the Anai would be any different. He hoped for a harmonious change, however, one that would enrich rather than tear down.
Just as he became convinced that Tahan had fallen asleep, she spoke again, very softly.
“The people from beyond the sea are fascinating, Scott, but they frighten me as well. You had told me of what happened to your world, of the Great War that tore whole nations apart and turned vast lands into dead dust. I cannot imagine such bloodthirst, such brutality. And I am wary of letting the culture that birthed it into the valley of the Anai.”
“It can hardly be stopped, Tahan,” Scott said, deciding it’s better to be frank. “Other young people will surely follow in Omrek’s steps. They will want to learn of the world beyond the valley.”
“I know,” Tahan sighed. “I just hope they won’t live to regret it.”
~~~
Scott and Omrek set out soon after getting up. Omrek was positively bouncing with excitement. He had joined Scott before on several trips to McMurdo, and always kept asking when the next visit might take place. His mastery of the snowmobile, too, surprised Scott – though the young Anai man had zero encounters with technology for the first twenty-something years of his life, he took to snowmobiling, the radio, and even the digital library, as if the knowledge was always there and he only needed someone to remind him how to put it into action. Scott could not say the same of himself in his usage of the Anai tools.
As they were getting closer to the edge of the village, they ran across Ne Riorag, who was busy repairing the stone hedge of the little field surrounding his home. The darkness would soon disperse, and then it would be time for sowing the rapidly growing wild grain unique to the Anai Valley.
