by L. A. Larkin
Maddie was already on the move.
Luke pushed the vehicle to maximum speed and shot off towards the mountains. He guessed they had less than five minutes now – not enough time to escape.
All around him was the enormous expanse of gleaming white ice that he had fought so hard to protect. Even after thousands of years, the Pine Island Glacier felt solid, indestructible, eternal. It had stood strong while kings and queens and empires lived and died, most unaware of its existence. It had survived two world wars and nuclear bombs. Global warming was melting it, slowly, like a cancer devouring its host, day by day. Yet the glacier was still battling on. Luke knew it could be savage but its majesty was undeniable. Had Luke finally lost the battle to save it?
The first explosion reverberated through Luke’s chest like the rumble from a distant cannon. He momentarily released the accelerator. The epicentre was behind him and to his right, much further inland.
The next boom was a fraction closer. Then another and another, like a series of blows from a heavyweight boxer, pounding on Luke’s chest. His eardrums were pummelled and the ground shook.
Luke heard Maddie scream, and looked over to see her ducking low over the handlebars. It was an instinctive but futile reaction, since the threat was from below, not above. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with terror.
Luke released the accelerator and both snowmobiles slowed to a halt, Maddie following his lead.
‘Why do you stop?’ Vitaly hollered as Luke stepped off the vehicle. ‘Drive!’
‘What are you doing?’ screamed Maddie.
‘It’s too late,’ Luke replied. ‘We’re not going to make it off the glacier. And if I’m going to die, I’m not running. I’m sorry, Mads.’ His words were drowned out by another explosion directly behind him.
Vitaly nodded. ‘This is true.’
Yet another shattering detonation. They all ducked low and covered their ears.
Maddie dismounted and Luke placed his arm around her and drew her close. Vitaly stayed on the snowmobile. The ice beneath them shifted suddenly, like a violent earthquake. Maddie and Luke stumbled and fell onto all fours.
‘But how?’ she asked, trembling.
‘Robert must have an override code. He start the countdown again,’ Vitaly shouted.
‘And he must have replaced the antenna,’ Luke added.
Vitaly nodded. ‘I am sorry. I should have known. That man is too rich and clever not to have backup plan.’
‘There’s no way you could have known,’ Luke replied. ‘I’m just sorry it had to end this way.’ He felt the ice vibrating beneath his bare hands. He patted its surface. ‘Not long now,’ he said.
‘I always say explosives will kill me one day,’ said Vitaly. ‘But, I die with brave friends.’
Luke gave him a wry smile, but an instant later it was gone. ‘Jase,’ he breathed. He wanted to say goodbye.
‘He’s safe,’ Maddie said. ‘I saw to that.’
The shockwave from the next detonation juddered through Luke’s body and his hands and knees slipped. As the fissure wall shattered and collapsed, it creaked and groaned like metal in a car-crusher.
Maddie handed her two-way radio to Luke. ‘Get a message to him,’ she shouted.
The ground shook again. Luke managed to tune in to the right frequency.
Bolshakov’s voice yelled, ‘Where are you? We hear explosions.’
‘There’s no time,’ Luke shouted above the noise. ‘Tell my son I love him. You must tell him.’
There was a moment of stunned silence. ‘I will.’
Luke offered the radio to Maddie. She shook her head and didn’t take it. ‘It’s okay. I’ll be with my baby girl.’ She looked away, not wanting him to see her tears.
‘Get out of there!’ Bolshakov bellowed over the radio. ‘The glacier – it collapse!’
‘Vitaly?’ Luke offered his friend a chance to say goodbye. He took the radio, said something in Russian and handed it back to Luke. Luke let it fall from his hand. ‘What did you say?’
‘I ask him to return my body home,’ he replied. ‘I have not set foot in Russia for thirteen years. At last I can go home.’ He lifted his blue eyes to the pale sky and waited.
‘Mads. I wish we’d had more time,’ Luke said.
She hugged him. ‘Why do I finally meet the right one when it’s too late?’
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
Explosions rolled onwards towards the bay, like a Mexican wave of thunder and destruction. Luke watched fragments of ice shoot into the air, like a fountain of snow. Then a vast, screeching, agonising, cracking sound as the stressed ice at the front of the glacier began to break up. The ice beneath their feet shifted with a neck-breaking jerk, and he felt the pull of gravity as the ground tilted a fraction.
‘Vitaly, lie down!’ he yelled. ‘Use your axe!’ Luke swung his own axe deep into the glacier’s back. ‘Maddie, hang on to me.’
The aftershocks pounded their bodies like a jackhammer. Luke felt the glacier’s death throes, as if it were a desperate animal writhing in the jaws of a predator. Somewhere deep below them, the ice split.
Completely disoriented, Luke saw chunks of ice the size of ships hurled into the air. The white beast arched its back beneath him, lifting him up. Maddie clung to Luke in silent terror. The glacier shook, shuddering at its vulnerability. Luke’s sense of balance was shot to pieces but he clung to the axe handle. He was determined to see it through to the end.
The glacier face was calving pieces of ice the size of office blocks into the sea. Massive waves crashed over what remained of the ice shelf, further weakening it. An immense rift worked its way inland from the ice tongue, splitting the glacier in half. A great mass of jade, blue and white ice shifted and pointed like an arrow towards the sky. It was breathtakingly, hideously beautiful.
Another crack opened up, and Luke watched, calmly fascinated, as it snaked towards them. The ice beneath him began to tip up at an alarming angle. He started to slide. Shards of crystal-like pieces flew at the sun, and through them he saw the colours of the rainbow, as if in final defiance of the inevitable.
T PLUS 2 YEARS
London
He had met his interviewer and they had shaken hands. The guy was a legend around the world, his talk show pulling millions of viewers each night. But Luke tried not to think about that as he stared around the brightly lit set, at the London skyline through the large windows, at the armchair where he’d be sitting in a few minutes, a microphone broadcasting his every word. This was his idea of hell, but if he could survive what he’d been through in Antarctica, then he’d get through this.
Over the last two years, Luke had been asked to speak at the United Nations, and to consult for his government and others. Tomorrow, he was leaving England to appear before the United States Senate Committee on Armed Services, where he was to present his views on climate change as a threat to global security.
He had also been offered an enormous sum of money to head up a new multinational, state-of-the-art Antarctic research station, to model and monitor the West Antarctic Ice Sheet’s disintegration. But he couldn’t go back. The men and women who had died there still haunted him. He had nightmares, their voices calling his name. Apart from that, he had made a good life with Maddie and Jason, and that was too precious to risk losing. But just because he existed in a self-imposed exile from Antarctica, that didn’t mean he cared any less about it.
A warm hand took his and he felt instantly better. ‘You’ll be fine,’ Maddie said. ‘You’re an old hand now.’ She gazed around the set, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
Their relationship had gone beyond the initial desperate clinging, beyond their guilt that they had lived and others had not, beyond their anger at the slowness of governments to react and at China’s denial, blaming a renegade general and his son, beyond their disbelief as resource companies hovered like vultures, falling over themselves to cash in on the disaster. With the gla
cier gone, the continent was slowly losing its icy armour, and its riches were highly prized.
Antarctica was changing forever and, as a result, so was the rest of the world. Which was why Luke was hauling himself from country to country, spelling out very clearly that everybody’s way of life was about to change, whether rich or poor, and that economies, defences, health, food and water – all the things he, like so many others, had taken for granted – were under threat.
‘This is so awesome!’ Jason said.
‘Yeah, mate, it is.’ Luke reached out and tousled his son’s hair.
‘Oh, Wendy called,’ Maddie said. ‘I’ve got to hand it to her, she’s got the knack. Another donation. Five hundred thousand dollars. That’ll keep the foundation going for a while.’ The Searle Foundation provided much-needed aid and education in poor countries facing serious flooding.
‘Let’s use it for the refugee project in Vietnam,’ Luke said.
Wendy had visited Luke upon his return to Australia. It was her money that had enabled him set up the foundation.
Luke heard his name being called. He turned towards the dimly lit auditorium, at the rows of empty seats that would shortly be filled. He searched the back rows and the man repeated Luke’s name, his voice like sandpaper on rough wood.
‘Hey! Mr Celebrity! You now too big to have a beer with me?’ The man guffawed as he walked down the aisle, two steps at a time. Vitaly Yushkov first squeezed Luke, then Maddie and finally Jason, in a bear hug. He took a step back to gaze at Luke’s neatly ironed shirt. ‘You look very nice,’ he teased.
Luke laughed. ‘How’s the Arctic touring business?’ It was July; the Professor Basov was leaving for Spitsbergen the next day.
‘Shithouse. No bloody ice!’
A production assistant beckoned for Luke to follow her to hair and make-up, but he politely declined. He wasn’t going to hide the raised scars, six of them, that marked his left cheek and mouth, a reminder of Robert and his crampon spikes. She ran off to inform the producer, Larry, who shrugged and then called Luke backstage.
‘The battered hero look – I like it,’ Larry said.
Luke frowned. He had been asked to wear his Cross of Valour but had refused. He kept it locked away like the memory of his friends’ deaths.
‘It’s all good,’ said Larry. ‘Let’s rattle a few cages, shall we? Michael will start by asking you to tell your story and how you survived, then he’ll move on to what you think can be done about the collapsing ice. Oh, and how we tackle all those displaced people. Okay?’
Every morning, when Luke first opened his eyes, he reminded himself how it was that he was still alive. How he had flung his ice axe into the tilting glacier, and hung on until its shifting mass had settled into its new position, upended at a twenty-degree angle. Vitaly had clung on too, the old sailor resolutely refusing to budge, the crampons of his good leg like claws in the ice.
Luke was eternally grateful to Winchester, who had realised something was wrong during their phone call, and had sped up the rescue mission. Luke’s hint about their celebrating his last birthday together had raised the alarm. In fact, Luke had spent that birthday being reprimanded for delaying the departure of the Aurora Australis; he’d forgotten his camera.
Those days of irresponsibility were now long gone. The meltdown clock was ticking, and there was so much to do. Including these excruciating interviews.
‘Sure,’ Luke replied, but his voice lacked enthusiasm. He hoped Maddie would be in the front row, as she had promised.
‘You don’t like the attention much, do you?’ Larry asked.
‘Not much, but it’s got to be done.’
Larry attached a microphone to Luke’s shirt collar. ‘Do you really think sea levels could rise by fifteen feet? Seriously?’
‘Yeah, it’s possible,’ he replied. ‘They’re already up by just under a metre, or three feet. It’ll be many years before it reaches five metres, though. We’ve got time to lessen the impact.’
The producer nodded, frowning. ‘Really? I mean, that’s London in trouble, Amsterdam, Manhattan …’
‘Portsmouth, Hull, The Wash, parts of Belgium and Denmark. New Orleans could be wiped out. Florida’s in danger. Most Pacific Islands, Egypt, Vietnam and Bangladesh are going to have serious trouble. Sydney and Brisbane airports look like they’ll be underwater, and Port Phillip Bay – in my hometown of Melbourne – is under threat.’
Larry stared at him. The audience was arriving and the hum getting louder. He pulled himself together. ‘Okay, we’ll be going live soon. Are you ready?’
‘Ready as I’ll ever be.’
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
Writing this book has been an adventure in itself. I travelled to Antarctica on a former Russian oceanographic research vessel, the Professor Multanovskiy, to be awoken every morning by the Russian captain barking instructions to his crew through the PA system. It was like waking to find myself in a James Bond story: turbulent seas, glaciers the size of small countries, and abandoned stations eerily left as if the inhabitants would return at any moment. On board, I met two people whose advice has proved invaluable: Luke Saffigna who bears no resemblance to my hero, save for his initials and his passion for Antarctica, and Jeff Rubin – author of Lonely Planet’s Antarctica guidebooks.
Thanks to the generosity of so many at the Australian Antarctic Division (AAD), I learned something of crevasse rescue techniques, avalanche survival, polar medicine and station life. Armed with this information I then took liberties and created my fictional world. I was lucky enough to interview one of the AAD’s first female station leaders, Joan Russell, whose insights helped me create Maddie Wildman. The AAD’s icebreaker, Aurora Australis, is like a small city and the ship’s master, Tim Sharpe, was kind enough to show me around. Thank you, also, to the crew of L’Astrolabe for having me on board.
I should state that there is no Hope Station or Bettingtons. The Australian Antarctic Research Organisation (AARO) does not exist and bears no resemblance to the Australian Antarctic Division, except for its location. However, numerous people at the AAD have generously contributed their time and knowledge. Thank you to Stuart Pengelly, Tom Maggs, Peter Yates, Dr Tony Worby, Patti Lucas, Peter Jansen and Dr Graham Denyer of the Polar Medicine Unit. At the British Antarctic Survey (BAS) in Cambridge, England, I spoke to some of the wonderful people doing research on and around the real Pine Island Glacier (PIG). A huge thank-you to Dr Julian Scott, Dr Andy Smith and Hugh Corr. Julian. I am grateful for your good humour when answering some of my more bizarre questions about my fictional plans. Athena Dinar and Heather Martin, you were amazing. Very few people have actually been to this incredibly remote and inhospitable part of the world. Yet the health of the Pine Island Glacier and its sister, the Thwaites, is believed to be critical. These two glaciers do, indeed, hold back the West Antarctic Ice Sheet, the melting of which could lead to catastrophic sea level rises.
A special thanks to Kate Perchina, Nathan Rosaguti, explosives expert Michael Fuller, as well as Tony Cooper, Jonathan Jutsen, Rob Thomson and Julia Davenport from climate change consultancy, Energetics.
Keir Vaughan-Taylor and Patrick W. Larkin – thank you for sharing your knowledge on climbing gear and abseiling. Thank you, Dom Bragge, for your help on radio communication. Once again, Fosm, I know I can rely on you for my imaginary hacking needs and Eon, you are a genius. Several people gave me valuable feedback on an early draft including: Jason Humphries, Louise Wildman, Lucie Stevens, Brian Bell, Harry Free, Patrick M. Larkin, Tim and Sarah Webster and Meg Wrixon.
I am very lucky to have such a supportive agent, Gaby Naher, whose advice on this manuscript was, once again, absolutely spot on. Thank you to my publisher, Melanie Ostell, for championing this book and for guiding me editorially, and to senior publicist, Ashlea Wallington, as well as the awesome design, sales and marketing teams at Pier 9. And thank you to all the bookshops and retailers who sell copies of Thirst, and all the people who buy them. Last, but by no means l
east, I cannot thank my husband, Michael, enough for coping with the endless brainstorming and for his unwavering support.
I love to hear from my readers, and can be contacted via my website at www.lalarkin.com.
L.A. Larkin writes thrillers with an environmental focus. To research Thirst, she travelled to Antarctica and learned about crevasse rescue, Antarctic survival and how to sew up a wound. After the success of her first book, The Genesis Flaw, L.A. Larkin gave up her climate change consultancy role, and now writes full time. She lives in Sydney.
For more information please visit www.lalarkin.com, Facebook or Twitter
Published in Australia and New Zealand by Murdoch Books / Pier 9 2012.
Published outside Australia and New Zealand by Rollicking Read Press 2012.
Text © L.A. Larkin 2012. The moral right of the author has been asserted.
The events and characters depicted in this book are entirely fictional and are not intended to portray actual events or people.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Cover design by Macadin Creative Cover image courtesy Getty Images / Duncan McNicol
A cataloguing-in-publication entry is available from the catalogue of the National Library of Australia at www.nla.gov.au
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