by Hannah Ross
Ray Douglas gave a nervous laugh. “Plenty of room for us all in Antarctica, right?” he said. “As long as we all cooperate… Sergey here was just showing me the activity of their research station on this satellite map.”
Pechersky gave a grave, grudging nod. Meanwhile, Scott scrunched up his forehead, trying to remember something. “Hang on,” he said, “I’m sure I had seen you on TV some years ago… weren’t you a heavyweight boxing champion?”
The Russian nodded again, more willingly this time. “I used to box, yes. Stopped long ago. I’m in Parliament now.”
Lindholm looked more dubious with every minute. “And the Russians are interested enough in Antarctica these days to send a parliament member to a newly founded research station?”
“Antarctica is gaining importance now that this thrice-damned war is over, Anders,” Douglas interjected. “So much of the northern hemisphere has been ravaged by the bombings… I’m sure many people wish nuclear weapons had never been invented.”
“Did Russia lose much livable territory?” Lindholm turned to Pechersky.
“Unfortunately, yes,” the Russian nodded. “Many of the larger cities were bombed. Moscow was destroyed. St. Petersburg will never be the same.”
“Most of Siberia is intact, though, as far as I know,” Lindholm said.
“Yes. There’s some very fast settlement-building going on,” Pechersky nodded.
“Did you know that the New Zealand government is thinking of turning McMurdo into a permanent settlement, Anders?” Douglas said. “With a residential area, somewhat like Villa Las Estrellas?”
“I have no idea how they think they might pull this off,” Lindholm shook his head in disbelief.
“You’d be surprised how much people are willing to put up with in order to live in a non-polluted environment.”
“I’m sure that not only I, but you too, young man, won’t live to see any large-scale settling of Antarctica. But, of course, we’ll be happy to cooperate with our Russian colleagues,” Lindholm said with a cool, polite nod in the direction of Pechersky.
“Sergey, Anders Lindholm used to supervise McMurdo for many years,” Ray Douglas told. “He knows absolutely everything about the station and its surrounding area. I strongly advise you to apply to him as a source of information on anything you might need.”
Pechersky eyed Lindholm with a first visible spark of genuine interest. “In that case, you must have access to base AN-85?” he inquired.
“Are you interested in AN-85?” Lindholm asked. His voice was pleasant, but his blue eyes were alert and wary.
“Who wouldn’t be, considering the discoveries that were published?” the Russian parried. “The micro-climate of the area… and its people – “
“You are in luck, Sergey,” Ray Douglas said. “These two fellows here,” he gestured in the direction of Scott and Omrek, the latter of whom had not said a word until now, “actually live in the Anai Valley. Omrek is a native, and Scott Buckley has married his sister. Mr. Buckley’s contribution to our research of the area has been invaluable.”
Pechersky’s eyes darted in the direction of the Anai man. He sized him up and down, as if he were a challenge the extent of which he meant to gauge. “Is that so?” he asked quickly. “We have a great interest in the Anai region. We do not believe New Zealand and USA have the right to monopolize access.”
“Now, Sergey, that is a matter for the International Antarctic Committee to debate,” Douglas quickly said, with a quick look at Lindholm.
“Your station may apply for a visiting permit, certainly,” Lindholm said, “but I must tell you, Mr. Pechersky, that the Anai Valley is under strict protection of the Committee.”
Pechersky ignored this statement. “We all want to know why,” he said, “there is an island of life just there, in that place – on a continent which is dead and frozen. Geysers, I know… but this isn’t enough of an explanation. What caused that unique formation? And, very importantly, can there be other places in Antarctica similar to AN-85?”
“I assure you, Mr. Pechersky, that after the discovery of the Anai Valley, many researchers have put years into trying to locate similar pockets of warmth in Antarctica. These efforts proved to be futile. To the best of our knowledge, there is no other place like that upon the continent. This information, however, is freely available in the McMurdo library, and you are most welcome to avail yourself of it.”
Pechersky frowned, as if he disagreed but did not quite know how to put his antagonism into words. “We ask for permission to visit AN-85,” he said.
“You will have to apply to the Committee,” said Lindholm.
“And the Committee will in turn apply to the natives of the valley, represented by their chieftainness and the Council of Elders,” Scott put in. “Now that the Anai ownership of their region has been internationally recognized, they get to decide who is granted access to the settlement.”
Pechersky fixed his beady, deep-set eyes on Omrek. “You don’t object to visitors, surely?” he said, speaking very slowly and clearly. The color of Omrek’s face heightened.
“I don’t have the authority to comment on this,” he said in his best English. “It will have to be decided by our leaders.”
If Pechersky was surprised by Omrek’s appearance, or by the excellence of his accent, he didn’t let it show. “I must get going,” he told Ray Douglas. He shook hands with the overseer, but shifted around the others with no more than a brief nod. The little office felt as if it had regained half its space once he was out of the door.
Lindholm fixed Douglas with a piercing stare, frowning. “Something is very off about this Russian guy. I don’t like him.”
“Nor do I,” said Omrek.
“Now, Anders, you are prejudiced. And, I must say… a little over-protective.”
“I wouldn’t say so,” Scott put in. “Not after Victor Nash.”
“But come on! There is absolutely no evidence Pechersky means any harm. He want to visit the valley, which is quite natural. His curiosity – “
“Mark my words,” Anders Lindholm said, raising a finger, “that man has no curiosity to speak of. He has an agenda he’s trying to promote – what it is, I don’t know yet, but I’m going to find out. And I advise you to watch out around him, Ray.”
Ray Douglas mouthed helplessly, like a fish out of the water. “But,” he eventually said, “I can’t deny him permission to visit AN-85. If the Antarctic Committee gives the authority to their research station –“
“Yes, but you can send a message to the Committee, saying you see no particular reason for the scientists of the Siyanie station to go to the Anai Valley. I will do the same, and I hope that the opinion of an old geezer like me still counts for something.”
“And I will recommend Tahan and the elders to be wary as well,” Omrek said. Scott nodded.
Ray Douglas let out a sigh. “This position is trickier than I anticipated,” he confessed. “I expected I wouldn’t have much more to deal with than shipments and supply distribution.”
“Well, you’re in for an exciting life, my friend,” Lindholm said. “I’ve sat in that chair for over thirty years, and I can tell you I seldom had a dull day.”
“That’s why I’m glad you’re here, Anders. There are some things I really wish you’d help me decide on –“
“You’re in luck,” Scott said with a wry smile. “When I arrived at McMurdo, Anders sailed off a couple of weeks later, leaving me in the lurch and thinking about nothing but his beach house in California.”
“I’m listening, Ray,” Lindholm said, steepling his fingers and settling more comfortably in his chair, while Douglas accessed some files on his laptop.
“Omrek and I will go now too, I think,” Scott said. “It was a pleasure to see you, Anders.”
“Don’t say goodbye yet – you aren’t leaving today, are you? I’ll stop by your quarters when Ray and I are done talking.”
Once Scott and Omrek had gained some distance
from the overseer’s office, they exchanged a look of grim understanding.
“I really don’t like that Russian guy,” Scott said.
Omrek nodded vigorously. “There is something about him… not exactly evil, but… dangerous. And he speaks odd. A little like Petri, but different.”
“That’s because he’s Russian.” Scott flipped out his phone, logged on to Google Maps, and showed the world map to his brother-in-law. Omrek was keen on geography, especially after the amazing discovery that the earth is round – which was corroborated by the ancient tales of the First Anai about the change in the position of the stars as one traveled from north to south.
“That is Russia?” Omrek’s eyes widened as he looked at the point shown to him by Scott. “It’s enormous!”
“Yep. They have a big advantage now, after the War. Many countries hardly have any unpolluted territory left. Russia has all its north and east, vast lands that just wait to be tapped into. I don’t know what they should seek in Antarctica right now… but I’m sure Anders is right. This Pechersky is up to something.”
As they talked, they kept walking in the direction of the laboratories, where Scott had deposited some of his samples on his previous visit. “Can you show me that device again?” Omrek asked. “That thing… the micro –“
“The electronic microscope? Sure,” Scott said, hiding a smile. His brother-in-law’s fascination with all things technological knew no limits.
“How long are we staying this time?”
“It depends on the weather, but I had planned on a few days. They might actually send a helicopter to AN-85, which would make things easier for us.”
Omrek nodded, satisfied. “It will give me time to learn, then. And maybe we can have another look at that giant. I want to know more about him.”
Chapter 3
The next morning – or, rather, the beginning of the next work day at McMurdo – found Scott and Omrek at the helicopter pad with Anders Lindholm and Annette Geels, a fresh PhD graduate who arrived from New Zealand just before the winter.
Annette was a thin little woman, hardly more than five foot two, with hair the color of fox fur and big blue eyes, wide-open in a perpetual child-like expression of curiosity and wonder. Nearly lost in the bulk of her orange parka and overalls, she could easily pass for a teenager. This was to be Annette’s first visit to the Anai Valley, and she was positively quivering with excitement. She shook hands with everyone twice, and looked at Omrek as if she could hardly restrain herself from pulling out her tablet and starting to take notes.
“It’s a good thing those Russians are gone,” said Stanley, the pilot, as they all boarded. “That great hulk, Pechersky, and the second guy, Volkov or whatever his name is, accosted me earlier and tried to get on board. I had to put my foot down, of course.”
Lindholm frowned. “Is that so? I guess I’ll have to report this, Stan.”
“You know, Anders, if they have really set their heart on going to AN-85, you can hardly stop them. It’s not like the area is guarded,” Stan said reasonably.
“Hmpf,” Lindholm shrugged.
Scott was now quite anxious to get home. But before I descend into the valley, he thought, I will take a look around AN-85, see if there are any suspicious tracks. Earlier, he looked up the new Russian research station on the satellite map, and decided there’s something very fishy about the whole thing.
During the flight, Annette kept talking. “I had seen photographs of the bones, which are quite amazing in themselves,” she said, “but actual living specimens! Is it really true that you have seen one?” she asked, looking at Scott.
“Seen one? The damn beast nearly had us for a snack, Dr. Geels.”
“Oh, just call me Annette, please. What a pity that it had got away!”
“A pity?” Omrek sounded incredulous. “It was a bloodthirsty monster that could have devoured a dozen people in two bites. I hope it landed on some icy shore and froze again.”
“If it did, we may hope to find it,” said Dr. Geels. “If, on the other hand, it sunk into the ocean…”
“What we can promise you, Annette, are unique, very well-preserved dinosaur bone deposits that are no more than a few thousand years old,” said Lindholm. “I’d say this alone is worth a journey to Antarctica, isn’t it?”
Annette’s eyes sparkled. “It’s quite amazing. It’s like being hurled millions of years backwards inside a time capsule!”
As much as Annette Geels was focused on prehistoric reptiles, however, she could not help getting distracted once they began the descent into the valley. “It is… warm. Yes, actually warm!” she said, throwing back the hood of her parka and shaking out her wavy red hair. “I have never been this warm since coming to Antarctica, except inside a building. And just look at these jets of steam bursting out of the cracks – what a field of research for geologists!”
While Annette was inspecting the first geysers, and Lindholm was doing his best to usher her forward, Omrek stepped behind a rock and changed back into his traditional Anai clothes. “Ah, that’s better,” he said, stepping out and shoving the orange work outfit into his backpack. “I do have to say, nothing is more comfortable than sealskins.”
Annette’s eyes went round with horror as she beheld the sleek furs Omrek was clad in. “That…” she said in a faint voice, and gulped, “that’s sealskin?”
“Why, Dr. Geels, what did you expect the Anai people to wear?” Lindholm asked with a faint hint of amusement. “Leather made from Antarctic sheep, perhaps? Or maybe they were supposed to walk around naked?”
“No, certainly…” Annette shook her head, coming to her senses. “I understand – indigenous traditions and – it’s just that…” she trailed off, evidently unable to conquer her long-ingrained disgust with any fur products.
“Seals make quite good eating, too, Dr. Geels,” Scott said with a deadpan expression. “You should know that if you are to come in contact with the Anai. Animals that you regard as pure untouchable wildlife – whales, seals, penguins – make up most of the diet that has sustained the Anai for thousands of years. And they taste pretty nice, too, if prepared right.”
“I’ll ask my wife to roast some penguin for you,” Omrek said.
“No, no, there’s no need to,” Annette hastened to say. Her face took on a greenish tinge, and it probably wasn’t due to the ride in the chopper. “I have brought my own, um, provisions.”
Scott burst out laughing. “Don’t worry, Dr. Geels, nobody expects you to take to Anai cooking right away. It did take me some time until whale steaks started tasting as fine as good ol’ T-bone.”
Annette, probably too appalled for words, fell silent. Then she let out a gasp as they advanced towards the outskirts of the village, with welcoming fires twinkling here and there, and the stone houses illuminated and shadowed alternately by the shifting of the auroras. They approached and were welcomed by a group of people. Their arms were shaken, their backs clapped, greetings were exchanged. Someone recognized Anders and a hubbub of excited talk broke out. Several cast curious glances in the direction of Annette.
One man looked less than delighted, however. It was Ne Tarveg, who briefly nodded to Scott and Omrek, and gave Anders Lindholm a look of recognition that was none too glad. He looked down at Dr. Geels with a scowl.
“I see you have brought strangers, Ki Arahak,” he said to Scott in Anai.
“Visitors,” amended Scott.
Ne Tarveg gave a snort, but let the matter go for the time being. Lindholm was familiar with this attitude and not much impressed by it, but Annette seemed to sense something was off, and glanced at the big man uncertainly.
“Is anything wrong?” she asked Scott in a whisper.
“Don’t mind Tarveg,” Omrek said bracingly. “He likes being unpleasant.”
Their party now broke up, with Omrek going home to check on his wife, and the others coming away with Scott. Tahan had not heard the commotion outside. Scott could hear her talking to Egan ins
ide the house. He stopped before the outer leather flap and clapped twice, to let his wife know he is coming with visitors.
The talking ceased and Tahan pulled the entrance flap aside. In her free arm she held Niri, who was fussing. Egan was clinging shyly to her leg, but went on to Scott to be picked up. “Scott, you are back! I wasn’t expecting you so soon!”
Scott hoisted the little boy up on his shoulders, while Anders Lindholm came out from the shadows, and Tahan’s face lit up with happiness:
“Anders! I did not know – didn’t think we’d ever see you again!”
“I couldn’t stay away,” Anders said, admiring the baby. “And frankly, after the war, there wasn’t much worth staying away for. I congratulate you,” he said, gently touching the baby’s fat little hand and looking from Tahan to Scott.
“Tahan, this is Annette,” Scott said, drawing his wife’s attention to the second visitor, who was looking around the stone hut, at the carved shelves, the pottery, the ivory-carved tools, the woven grass baskets and the furs piled upon the bed, as if she could not tear her eyes away.
“Oh, sorry,” Annette turned back with an embarrassed smile. “It’s just – this is all so fascinating.”
“Be welcome,” Tahan said, approaching the other woman and shaking her warmly by the arm. “I am Ki Tahan, and have the honor to lead the Anai alongside the elders.”
“I am Annette Geels,” said Dr. Geels with the utmost seriousness.
Tahan sat down upon the bed to nurse the baby. “Scott, where are your manners?” she chided him in Anai. “Get our guests to sit down and make them comfortable.”
Scott pulled out a couple of sitting cushions, sewn from sealskins and stuffed with dried grass, and placed them near the warmth of the central brazier. Then he brought out a bowl of crisp brown slices. Annette eyed the offering apprehensively.
“You have nothing to fear, it’s only dried fish,” Scott said. Annette took a bit and nibbled on it apprehensively. Lindholm tasted some as well.
