by Hannah Ross
“That’s quite a look, Tarveg,” Omrek said.
Ne Tarveg shrugged in feigned indifference. “Why should I be ashamed of who I am? Let those foreigners see me in my Anai clothes,” he finished, casting a disapproving look at Omrek’s bright orange overall.
Omrek chuckled. “No one is ashamed, but you look as if you want to draw all eyes to yourself.”
The helicopter flight was clearly not easy on Ne Tarveg, which might have had to do with the fact that last time he had flown to McMurdo, he was critically injured. His jaw was more rigid than ever, his face assumed a greenish tinge, and he stared down at his hands and did not say a word the whole way. When the chopper finally landed, however, he got up from his seat, climbed down and stood at the pad with his head held high and his feet planted firmly in the ground.
“Lead the way, Scott,” Omrek said. “I can’t wait to see them.”
“Sure. The brooder building is just a little way off.”
As they walked across the station, the Anai attire drew many glances, especially Ne Tarveg’s curious facial paint. “Do all foreigners stare this way?” he muttered under his breath. “It is rude.”
“You should have dyed your hair with red clay, too,” Omrek said slyly. “What do you expect if you show up in full battle attire, Tarveg?”
“Battle attire? I did not even bring my weapons, apart from this flint knife.” He drew his arms closer to his body as he walked. “It’s as cold here as at the bay. I don’t understand how people can live like this all the time… and it surely gets worse during the dark season.”
“It’s pleasant enough inside the buildings,” Scott said. “You remember the…” he paused, looking for the correct word for hospital. “You must remember the house of the healers, Ne Tarveg.”
“Yes. It was warm enough. But still, being out is…”
“This is a surprise!” Anders Lindholm was walking toward them, making energetic strides on his long thin legs. “Scott, and Omrek, and – goodness me, Ne Tarveg, is it really you?”
“Yes. Come to see young flying lizards.”
“Ah, I see! Yes, that’s one of the station’s major attractions these days. Annette even had to implement visiting hours because she and her team were getting distracted by all the attention. Anyway… you are going to the brooder? I’ll come with you. I haven’t seen these little creatures’ progress in a while.”
They approached the building and knocked, and were met at the door by an irritated-looking Adam. “This is not a zoo! Visiting times are specified… oh, sorry, it’s you guys – come on in.” He threw a surprised look at Ne Tarveg, but did not say anything.
Scott approached the pen where the creatures were kept. The Antarctosaurus hatchlings raced around with the energy of puppies, chasing each other and playing with the variety of toys their caretakers had provided. There were rubber balls and chew toys, big sturdy rattles, rings and rocks and various devices on which to climb.”
“They are beginning to try to use their wings,” Adam told, sounding every bit like a proud parent. “And they really know us now. We have given them names – after doing the ultrasound, we marked the females with a yellow band around one of their hind legs.”
Looking into the pen, Scott counted six hatchlings with yellow bands. “Seems like a well-proportioned flock,” he remarked.
“Would be so easy to wipe them all out right now, while they are young,” Ne Tarveg said quietly in Anai, staring malevolently at the young reptiles.
“Don’t let Annette Geels hear you said that,” Omrek advised him.
As if on cue, Annette walked in, wearing an orange overall suit that looked oversized on her tiny frame, and carrying a large clipboard. “What a surprise! Apart from Anders, we weren’t expecting visitors. I assume you… um, have just arrived from the… valley?” she finished a little uncertainly, sizing up Ne Tarveg. “I’m glad to see you feel better, Ne Tarveg.”
The warrior drew himself up to his full height. “Monsters will not take me down,” he said.
“I did not expect you to make all this way to look at young monsters,” Annette said with a wry smile.
“Is… how you say? Interesting to watch. These not attack.”
“No, they are quite tame. Come, I will show you.” With some surprise, Scott saw Ne Tarveg’s complacency as the little woman steered him in the direction of the pen. She opened one of the side doors, stretched out her hand and whistled softly. At once, a greyish-green female Antarctosaurus scuttled over, flapping her wings in enthusiasm and making little chirping sounds. She butted her elongated head against Annette’s palm, clearly expecting to be petted.
“This is Mariette. She is my personal favorite,” explained Annette, gently massaging the little reptile’s neck, which was stretched out in pleasure. The hatchling emitted a strange guttural noise now, not unlike the purring of a cat. Ne Tarveg watched with wide eyes.
“These come to you as if you were mother!”
“In a way, I am their mother. I am the first thing they saw when they were hatched. I have taken care of them since. I spend time with them and am learning to communicate with them. You could, too. Here, put your hand out and touch them.”
“I not want –“
Oblivious in her enthusiasm, Annette pulled on one of Ne Tarveg’s large, callused hands and placed them on the silky smooth scales of the little Antarctosaurus. “See? They are used to people. Go on, pet her,” she insisted, pressing her slim fingers on top of the rough, work-hardened ones. Ne Tarveg, looking confused by this unexpected turn of events, made an uncertain motion down the creature’s back and tail. The Antarctosaurus showed not the least bit of fear.
While Annette and Ne Tarveg lingered near the pen, Omrek nudged Scott with an elbow, a habit he had picked up at McMurdo. “Ne Tarveg does have a knack for fancying the wrong women,” he said in a low voice, speaking Anai.
“You don’t mean…” Scott was startled, and stole an uncertain look in the direction of the pen. There was no doubt about it, however. As much as Ne Tarveg fought to maintain his usual deadpan look, he evidently enjoyed the society of the foreign woman more than he’d care to admit.
Chapter 13
“Scott? Scott, get up!”
“Mmmmm.”
“Get the heck up and open the door!” the voice sounded increasingly more irritated, but Scott still had trouble taking it in.
“What time is it?”
“Time to get up,” Omrek said, rising and padding to the door barefoot. Ne Tarveg had jumped up too, quick and alert as a seal in water. Scott propped himself up on his elbow and sat on the bed, bleary-eyed, just in time to see Omrek open the door.
They had stayed at Scott’s assigned quarters to get some sleep. A folding bed was drawn out for Ne Tarveg, but he scoffed at the flimsy-looking contraption and preferred a sleeping bag spread on the floor.
“Morning,” Anders Lindholm said briskly, walking in. He was cleanly shaven and perfectly tidy.
“What’s the deal, Anders? Have the little buggers escaped?”
“No, no. This is about your friend, Sergey Pechersky.”
“Pechersky? What’s he up to again?”
“He’s shut up with Douglas in the overseer’s office. I was there until just a few minutes ago, and I think you should come.”
Scott barely suppressed a groan. “For God’s sake, Anders, give me a moment to put myself together. I feel a little disoriented.”
He shuffled off to the bathroom, splashed water on his face and dried it thoroughly with a small fresh towel. After shaking his head like a dog getting out of water, he came out, ready to face Lindholm. “So what’s going on? What is Pechersky up to?”
“He and some of his people landed at the helicopter pad about an hour and a half ago, and Pechersky requested to see Douglas. To be honest, he doesn’t sound quite sane. He keeps going on about possibly having to close the Siyanie station and merge with McMurdo.”
“He what?”
“T
hat’s what I said. Doesn’t make sense. It would be better if you came over and talked to him.”
“Is he still sitting with Douglas?”
“Yep. Now get yourself together, Scott, and let’s go.”
“What about us?” Omrek asked. Ne Tarveg was halfway through getting up and grabbing his spear.
“I think you’d better stay behind,” Scott said. “I’ll be back soon.”
They set off, Scott panting to keep pace with Lindholm, though the latter was his senior by some forty-odd years. He was still a little out of breath when they knocked on Douglas’s office door.
“Come in!” a nervous voice sounded from within.
They found Ray Douglas and Sergey Pechersky sitting across from each other with cold, untouched coffee cups in front of each of them. Douglas crumpled a packet of sugar in his hand and tossed it aside as they walked in. “Ah, Scott, Anders, you’re here – that’s good. I could use some help. I’m really not up to dealing with madmen this early in the morning.”
“What’s going on, Sergey?” Scott asked.
Pechersky looked up at him. His eyes were bloodshot with lack of sleep, and there was thick stubble all over his broad jaw. “I’ve got word from Trepanovo,” he said. “Over half the people still left at home were… taken,” he ran a shaking hand over his forehead.
Scott slumped down in a chair next to him. “What do you mean, taken?”
“Russia is in chaos. There are all sorts of illegal affairs going on. Some of it is… frightening. There’s organ trade, slave trade, people are kidnapped for science experiments. Some researchers, they have had an eye on the Mece people for a long time now,” Pechersky went on, his agitation rendering his English almost unintelligible. “They want to take us to their laboratories, do… scary things. Those who are taken by them never come back.”
Scott felt a chill run down his spine at those words. “They run experiments on humans? And I suppose they want your people because of their… their unusual anthropological background? But Russia is not an a complete anarchy. You are an important man, a well-known man, a member of your parliament… can’t you do anything?”
“Duma won’t get into this. Most I could do, some of my contacts helped my people escape. Those who had luck are in Baltic by now. The rest… we will try to do what we can, but I don’t have much hope.”
“I’m sorry. This is… terrible. I wish there was something I could do,” Scott said.
“Russia was never safe. Not for us. Not for many others. The kidnapping, it will be hard to prove.” Pechersky shook his head. “Four of my cousins were taken. And my parents.”
“I’m so sorry,” Scott said again. “I assume you will be going back to Russia to look for them?”
“No. There are other people who deal with that. My job is to find a new place for us, a safe place. Not many places in the world have peace. We were ready to come all the way here, to Siyanie, but it can’t hold us all. Need bigger place. McMurdo has room, has good facilities, can set up more. We want to come and stay here.”
“See here, Sergey, you are being unreasonable,” Douglas spoke quickly and nervously. “We all sympathize with your plight, but what you are suggesting is simply unrealistic. We are setting up an experimental residential area due to scarcity of land worldwide. We can’t possibly host you and your entire, um, clan. For one, McMurdo belongs to New Zealand now – or, to be exact, it’s a joint US-New Zealand venture.”
Pechersky gave him a cold, hard look. “This can change.”
“What do you mean?” Lindholm asked sharply. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife.
“We don’t have much power in Russia, but more power here. Weapons, all we can possibly need. I suggest you step aside and let us take over. We need space. You have it.”
Lindholm’s eyes were slits. “Are you threatening us?”
“Hold it,” Scott threw his hands up. “No one’s making threats. Sergey, we appreciate the difficulty of your situation, but quite frankly, I think you’re being unrealistic. You can’t accommodate your people at McMurdo. I am certain, however, that there is plenty of land in other parts of the world, and as soon as you are recognized for what you are, you can appeal for…”
Pechersky’s eyes were hard and determined. “There’s no land. Not enough for everyone. People are desperate for land. Otherwise, why even think of settling in Antarctica?”
“What we have in mind is something experimental,” Douglas put in. “There is still an ongoing controversy regarding whether we are justified…”
“Experimental? Well, the Mece people are used to experiments. This is something we are ready to enter. Give us room. We need a home.”
“Sergey, the accommodations near McMurdo would be nothing like your people are used to,” Scott put in. “It will be extremely crowded. You tell me that you are accustomed to space, quiet, nature… that these things are a basic need, even, of your people.”
Pechersky nodded. “It is true. Our brain, it is made differently… most of us don’t do well in crowded conditions.”
“The residential area will be pretty snug, though,” Lindholm said. “It is a necessity – otherwise, it would be nearly impossible to provide everyone with facilities. The Antarctic Treaty requires that any available land be used very sparingly, too. Come with us and we’ll show you the place for the project. I’m sure you’ll agree that it’s not what you are looking for.” Pressing his advantage, Lindholm laid a hand on Pechersky’s massive shoulder and fixed him with a piercing blue stare. “Be reasonable, Mr. Pechersky. Be reasonable and we will all back you up in looking for a proper solution for your people.”
Pechersky nodded and got up, silent and staggering. “I… apologize,” he said after a few moments of awkward silence. “I did not mean to cause any harm. I am just…” he shook his head. “I don’t know how to help my people. I took up this responsibility, and now I…” he shook his head again, shrugged his shoulders and walked out before any of them had the chance to say anything else.
There was a long, tense silence. “I don’t know what to make of this fellow,” Lindholm finally said. “His whole tactic is like an elephant in a china shop. Diplomacy clearly isn’t his strong side.”
“And his story,” Douglas added, nodding vigorously. “We’ve run some preliminary background checks and it appears he’s telling the truth, but still – Neanderthal! This is hard to wrap one’s head around.”
“It isn’t more unbelievable than a prehistoric reptile species living and breeding again,” Scott pointed out.
Lindholm nodded. “And I thought that there can be no more surprises after the discovery of the Anai valley,” he said. “Incredible! Anyway,” he glanced at the sturdy waterproof watch on his thin wrist, “It appears we have missed breakfast. What do you say about coming over to my quarters? I now have a tiny nook there in which to fix my meals, should the inspiration hit me… not much more than a portable stove and a toaster oven, but I can make something tolerable.”
“Thank you, Anders, but I have a lot of work,” Douglas said, nodding at his laptop.
“Buck?”
“I think I’ll just grab a breakfast bar from the vending machine.”
Lindholm shrugged. “Your loss. Well, as I find I can’t function without a decent breakfast, I’ll go and scramble myself some eggs. Have a good day, fellows.”
He strode over to the door, opened it, and nearly collided with Omrek and Ne Tarveg, who were both looking tense, and both had one hand on the ivory hilts of their stone daggers.
“We thought we’d go out and look around, and saw that big strange man, Sergey Pechersky, storming away,” Omrek explained. “What’s the matter, Scott? Is anything wrong? It looks like there was an argument –“
“A little misunderstanding, Omrek, nothing more,” Anders said smoothly, clapping the young Anai man on the back. “Thank you for your concern, but everything’s fine. Mr. Pechersky will head back to his own station as soon as weather cond
itions allow, I daresay.”
Ne Tarveg scowled. “I don’t really trust that man. Nor should you,” he said.
“Come along,” Scott said, steering his brother-in-law and Ne Tarveg away. “Let’s go – I don’t know about you, but I think a snack would do me good, and then…”
The two followed him, while Douglas remained in the office, and Lindholm went on his own separate way. Ne Tarveg, however, still looked highly alert as he walked through the station. “The truth now, Ki Arahak,” he said once they were out of earshot, turning abruptly in Scott’s direction. “This Ser-Sergey… what did he want?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Scott assured him. “Peace and stability for his people. I can’t blame him, but I can’t help him either.”
“Hmm.” Ne Tarveg pressed his lips, and Omrek shook his head ever so slightly. “We had better be ready. It’s impossible to know what will happen.”
“Exactly,” Scott nodded, “so why worry? Let’s get something to eat, and then let’s go and see the hatchlings again.”
“Why, can’t you get enough of the little monsters?” Omrek quipped. Ne Tarveg, on the other hand, looked pleased enough.
“We ought to learn more about these creatures.”
By now, Omrek was more or less used to vending machine fare. Ne Tarveg still was a little skeptical about it, but eventually all three settled with their snacks on the beds in Scott’s quarters, while Scott hooked up his laptop and checked emails almost absent-mindedly. His attention was spiked, however, and his heart missed a beat as he saw a message from the University of Bilbao in his inbox. Impatient, he clicked on the new message and began to read:
Dear Mr. Buckley,
We appreciate the effort you took in contacting us, and assure you that we find your theory most interesting. Though it is certainly unusual, we consider it worth looking into, and intend to commission this task to a research team dedicated to tracing the origins and ancestry of the Euskara people and their language.
