Colder Than Ice (24 page)

ERF

Antarctica—2010

ALLISON
WATCHED MICHELA alight from the ski-demon. “Where do you think you’re
going?” she demanded.

Michela
turned and frowned. “What do you mean? We’ve got to get out of here and
the only safe way to do this is if someone walks in front of the snow mobile
and checks the path.”

Allison
scowled. “I understand that. But, why are you doing it?”

Michela
tilted her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

“Just
stop and think. You’ve spent the better part of the last hour going down into
the bowels of the earth before having to drag yourself out. You must be about
dead on your feet.” Allison eased her leg over the side of the vehicle.
“Let me do this. Tell me what needs to be done.”

“I
don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why?”
Allison asked, her hands on her hips.

Michela
forced herself to remain calm. “For a start, you may have a rudimentary
understanding of glaciers, but have you had training in this?”

“No,
but how difficult can it be?”

“It
isn’t that easy to do, Allison. It requires a lot of focus and a fair degree of
quick reaction. I’ll go ahead of you and check the ground. You’ve got to be
prepared to maneuver the ski-demon to miss any cracks in the ice.”

Allison
snorted. “Seriously, it can’t be that hard. Give me a quick run down of
what has to be done.”

Closing
her eyes, Michela rubbed the back of her neck in frustration. “Look, I
know back at the camp we’d all normally discuss something before we reach
agreement, but this isn’t the time or place for consensual decision making.
I’ll do the probing and you drive the vehicle. There’s a storm bearing down on
us and we really don’t have the time to discuss this.”

Allison
braced her feet and shook her head. “Be reasonable. You said this requires
focus and reaction. You can’t possibly tell me you’re completely focused now;
not after what you’ve been put through.” Michela turned away. “Why
won’t you let me do this?”

Michela
wheeled, desperation on her features, her eyes glistening. “Because I
can’t afford to lose you too damn it. Please, if you want to argue about this
later, then fine. But right now we’ve got to get out of here, and fast.”

Michela
grabbed her ice axe and moved to a position roughly three yards in front of the
snow mobile. Not looking back, she checked the surface to her front, relieved
when she finally heard the vehicle’s engine roar to life.

Michela
carefully edged across the ice, using her axe to check the ground as she went.
More than once she held up her hand to halt the vehicle and prodded the ground
until again the axe found purchase.

Meandering
across the cold surface at a snail’s pace seemed to take forever, further
taxing Michela’s frayed nerves.
All I want now is a warm bath, a good glass
of scotch and, a decent sleep
—
none of which I’m likely to get in the
near future.
She winced as she bent down to check the ice. Her fall in the
crevasse had left its mark on her tired body. Only now as her system cooled
down did she become aware of how many aches and pains she had. She was certain
she’d have her fair share of bruises when she finally removed her multiple
layers of clothing.

Allowing
her mind to wander, she instinctively prodded the ground, almost losing her
balance as the axe broke through yet another thin layer of snow. Feeling
herself teetering toward the chasm before her, she threw all of her balance
backwards and fell face up on the cold surface.
That was too close. I’ve got
to keep concentrating on the task at hand, if not for me then at least for
Allison.

Allison
hovered above her. “Are you all right?”

Michela,
trying hard to mask a grimace of pain, sat up. “I’m okay, just a little
bit of hurt pride.” She leant forward and looked at the break in the ice
where her axe had plummeted through. Realizing going after it wasn’t an option,
she rose and turned to Allison. “I’ve lost the snow axe.”

Allison
gently gripped Michela’s arms with her gloved hands. “Lost the snow axe.
Who cares about the bloody snow axe? I almost lost you. Are you sure you don’t
want me to do this?”

As
tired as she was, Michela knew she had to get them off the glacier and soon.
“No, I’m okay. I could use another axe if you could possibly let me play
with yours,” she said, a hint of teasing in her voice.

Allison
stepped back and shook her head. “You’re incorrigible, but I guess you
know that.” She retrieved her axe from the vehicle and gave it to Michela.
She then returned to the snow mobile. “We better get going then,
Superwoman.”

Michela
tiredly smiled before turning around and again tracking a path across the
glacier. It took another ten minutes before she was certain they were out of
immediate danger. She keyed the radio and found they’d lost communications, and
so used the prearranged signal to let Sarah know they were clear of their first
obstacle.
Now all we have to do is find this hut. Out of the frying pan and
into the fire.

They’d
barely managed to reach the emergency hut when the increase in wind speed and
the closing in of the clouds heralded the oncoming storm. Michela checked the
door and found it unlocked.

“I
think we’ve got about ten minutes max before the storm hits. I’ll get this gear
inside.” Michela pointed to two metal points, firmly entrenched in the
ice. “Could you take the rope and tie the ski-demon to the anchor points
by the side of the hut over there. You know how to tie knots and lashings don’t
you?”

Allison
rolled her eyes. “If what I currently do for a living didn’t come with the
requirement to tie such things, then I’m sure my old Girl Scout training would
help me. Of course I can bloody-well tie knots. Get inside and I’ll be in
shortly.”

A
Girl Scout hey? I can just imagine what sort of havoc you’d have wreaked on
your poor Scout Master.
Exhausted,
Michela managed a smile before she stepped out of the wind and cold, and into
the building.

She
plonked the gear on the table, collapsed into a seat, and scanned the
building’s interior. It was like their mess hut, except without the solar
heating element to generate internal warmth.
It’s certainly darned small for
a prolonged stay with Alli.

ALLISON
PULLED THE collar of her extreme weather jacket up around her ears as she came
through the door.

Despite
being inside a sealed container, the sound of the wind was a constant as the
storm began in earnest. “Brrrr, it’s like an ice box in here. Where’s the
heating unit?”

Michela
tiredly shrugged. “I don’t think there is one. We’re going to have to rely
on the old fashioned method.”

Allison
gave her a quizzical look. “What old fashioned method?”

Michela
rose and looked around the room. “There should be Stinson pressure lamps
in here somewhere.”

“What
are they?”

“They’re
a kerosene lamp, invented in 1813 and they’ve been used in Antarctica from the
very beginning. They not only give off light, they give off heat as well, at
least some degree of heat that is.”

Michela
lifted the lid of a box, peered inside, and then pulled out two of the lamps.
“Here they are.” She bent down and pulled out another two. “See
if you can find any kerosene.”

Allison
went to one end of the small building and scanned the cramped surroundings,
looking for fuel. She stopped in front of a plastic container filled with a
clear blue liquid and turned to Michela, who was busy checking the
serviceability of the lamps. “I think I’ve found some.” She dragged
the large container from under the bench, opened the top, and sniffed the
contents. Pulling back and scrunching her nose, she sealed the container.
“Yep, that’s kerosene all right. I remember that smell from my great
grandfather’s heater. No matter how much we wanted to replace it with something
more modern he wouldn’t be swayed.”

Michela
smiled. “Stubborn streak, hey? I wouldn’t have thought that’d be a family
trait.”

Allison
opened her mouth then just as quickly closed it. “There’s a tap at the
bottom here. We’re going to have to get it onto the table to pour the kero. We
should be able to do it together.” Allison went to one side of the
container while Michela took her position on the other. They hefted the
flammable liquid onto the table and, out of the corner of her eye, Allison
spied Michela’s strained features.

Once
the container was stable, Allison moved around the table to where Michela had
gingerly sat down. “Are you all right?”

“I’m
okay. I got bounced around a bit in the crevasse, that’s all.”

“Bounced
around a bit? What do you mean?”

Michela
shook her head. “Not now, please. Maybe later. Let’s get these Stinsons’
filled.” She attempted to stand but Allison put a hand on her shoulder and
gently held her down.

Allison
picked up the lamps. “No. You stay there. Just tell me what to do. I can
cope.”

Michela
nodded. “I understand, but things will go a lot quicker if we work
concurrently. How about you let me try and find the sleeping bags? It’s going
to be very cold tonight without them.”

Allison
shrugged. “Either way, I reckon it’s still going to be cold. Okay, see if
you can find them, but then I want you to rest while I get something ready for
dinner.” She looked at the cupboards below the small stove. “There’s
got to be food here somewhere.”

Michela
walked to the beds. “There always is. These huts are pretty well
provisioned for long stays. We’ll have to remember to radio Wills Station when
we return, and let them know which hut we used. That way they’ll restock it
before its next use.”

Allison
filled the first lamp. “How long do you think we’re going to be stuck
here?”

Michela
shrugged. “I really can’t say. It could be days or weeks. These storms are
highly unpredictable, but at least we’re out of the cold.”

She
pulled two sleeping bags sealed in plastic from the compartment underneath one
of the foam mattresses. “Ah, here we are, our sleeping gear for the
evening.” She pulled both out of their packing and shook them to increase
their loft. “They look okay. Hopefully they’ll keep us warm.”

Allison
filled the lamps as she surreptitiously observed Michela.
She looks like
she’s been dragged through a wringer backwards. And what’s this about bouncing
in the crevasse? She looks as if she’s ready to sleep now. I better finish this
and find us something to eat.

Allison
completed filling the four lamps and took them and a box of waterproof matches
to Michela. “How about you get these things going while I wash my hands
and get some hot water on.”

Michela
put the first lamp in front of her and pumped pressure into the container.
After feeling resistance, she eased the pump back to its original position and
lit the lamp, its light reaching the corners of the room. She lit the other
lamps and placed them around the hut, attempting to generate both light and
warmth.

Allison
placed a steaming mug on the table where Michela had been working. “Try
that. It’s hot chocolate and if it’s like any chocolate I’m used to it will at
least make you feel a little better.”

Michela
gratefully lifted the warm mug to her cold lips. The smooth liquid warmed the
back of her throat and her stomach. “Marvelous, I think that’s all I need
before sleep.”

“I
don’t think so. I know we ate before
we left, but I think it’d be best if we both had some sustenance before we get
some rest.” Allison pointed to the pot on the stove. “Besides, I’ve
already started and it’d be a shame to waste good food.”

Michela
released her cup and held up her hands in mock defeat. “Okay. Food, then
bed. Hopefully by then it’ll be warm enough in here to strip down to our long
Johns.”

Allison
almost dropped the spoon she was holding. “Are you sure that’s
necessary?”

Michela
shook her head. “I hate to say this but it makes more sense to strip down
to our long Johns. It’s a little bit different back at our base camp with the
controlled heating and normal bedclothes. While the lamps here will add some
warmth, it won’t be as warm as what you’ve been used to. If you hop into the
bags with too many clothes on, all you’ll do is trap the cold air between the
loose layers of clothing. In your long Johns, you’ll have trapped the warm air
close to your skin and then you can rely on the loft of these Antarctic
sleeping bags to do the rest. Trust me, I’ve tried both and long Johns are a
lot warmer.”

Allison
placed a plate of food in front of Michela. “Dehydrated chili con carne. I
can’t vouch for its taste, but at least it’s warm.” She retrieved her own
plate and sat down. “I’ll admit I’m a bit doubtful about this clothes
thing.”

Michela
swallowed her mouthful of beans and wiped the sauce from the edge of her mouth.
“I understand, but at least give it a go. If it’s too cold, there are
other options open.”