Melt (12 page)

“Yes,” Jordan said. “No problem. She deserved a reward for bringing Kelly to us.”

“Absolutely,” Kelly agreed, tasting the broth in her bowl.

“I’m sorry we can’t offer you something more interesting for dinner. We didn’t know we were having company.”

“This is perfect,” Kelly said appreciatively. “It’s funny how good canned stew can taste when you’re camping.”

Kelly ate while Jordan spoke to her students briefly about the day’s work. She was friendly and engaging with them, but also professional. There could be no doubt she was the person in charge in this group.

A few minutes into the meal, the sound of a helicopter reached their ears and directed all their eyes to the sky. The helicopter came into view to the east, then passed rapidly by.

“That’ll be the search party,” Jordan said. “I hope your friend is safe.”

Seeing the helicopter on its way to Pippa gave Kelly some sense of comfort. She made a conscious effort to avert her thoughts from that situation, realizing there was nothing she could do now but wait.

“What was that you were working on this afternoon?” Jordan asked Brian. “With the wood and the hammering and all that?”

“Remember the basketball hoop Malik found for us? We built a stand and backboard for it. We’re going to finish it after dinner and get in a little B-ball this evening. Do you want to play?”

Jordan laughed ironically. “No, thank you! Not my thing.” She glanced at Kelly with her familiar sly smile. “I have a long-standing policy of avoiding doing anything with balls.”

Sonja lurched forward, nearly choking, then burst out laughing. Kelly smiled appreciatively. She noticed that Malik too was smiling, and realized this was the first time she’d seen anything other than seriousness on his face.

“Where do you go to school?” she asked him.

“University of Copenhagen. Dr. Westgate was kind enough to let me join the team, since I am home for the summer.”

“Home is Ilulissat?”

He nodded. “This is where I grew up. This is close enough to hang out with my family on weekends. And have my dog with me.” He motioned toward Atka who lay nearby, awake and watchful, but making no move to interfere with the meal. “This is perfect for me. It fits so well with my specialty.” Anticipating her question, he said, “Paleoclimatology.”

Kelly shot a questioning glance toward Jordan, who chuckled.

“It’s the study of prehistoric weather patterns. You’ve forgotten.”

“Sorry,” Kelly said, “I don’t remember much from my science classes. Prehistoric weather patterns? That sounds very technical. How can you look at that? Rocks? One thing I do remember is that Greenland has the oldest rocks on the planet.”

“Yes, that’s true. I’m glad you remember something.” Jordan buttered a slice of bread, her lips turning up slightly in an amused smile. Kelly had always loved that particular understated look of pleasure. “In this case,” Jordan explained, “it’s ice, which, technically, is a rock. The ice too is very old here. Like the rest of us, Malik is here to delve into the memory of the ice.”

“The memory of the ice?” Kelly stopped eating. “I’ve never heard that phrase.”

“It’s a poetic way of referring to Greenland’s ancient deep freeze. Ice cores have been taken down to a depth of two miles. Each year’s snowfall is compressed into a thin layer, so you can read the cores like tree rings. Two miles down equates to over a hundred thousand years, so Greenland’s ice sheet is sometimes referred to as the two-mile time machine.”

“Wow! But how does ice tell you anything about the past? It’s just frozen water.”

“Not entirely.” Jordan gestured with her spoon as she spoke, her face so familiar and so evocative of past feelings that Kelly found it hard to listen to her words. “With each layer of snow, particles are captured. Like dust, volcanic ash and pollen. Atmospheric gases, too, are trapped in bubbles in the ice. By analyzing each layer, we can reconstruct what the climate was like year by year. How much snow there was, how cold it was, whether there were volcanoes erupting or forest fires burning, what sort of plants were alive. The further down you go, the further back in time.” Jordan fixed her gaze on Kelly. “The ice remembers everything.”

So photos aren’t the only things that capture a moment in time, Kelly thought. “I had no idea you could get that much information out of ice.”

“It’s amazing,” Sonja insisted. “The knowledge and technical skill that goes into this sort of research. There’s just so much data, it blows your mind.”

“It sounds fascinating,” Kelly remarked. “Sonja, I know you’re at Boulder. So how did you get associated with this UCLA group?”

Sonja looked perplexed.

Jordan shook her head. “No, no,” she intervened. “I’m not at UCLA anymore.”

“You’re not?”

“No. I was there a few years, but once I got seriously into Greenland research, I transferred back to the Denver area. I’m teaching at Boulder again.”

Kelly was floored. “Seriously?”

Jordan nodded matter-of-factly, lifting her plastic water glass to take a drink. “I’ve been there for the last six years.”

“The National Ice Core Laboratory is in Denver,” Sonja added.

“Right,” said Jordan. “That’s where you need to be if you want to study the cores they’re pulling out of here.”

“Greenland ice cores are in Denver?” asked Kelly, still barely comprehending the fact that Jordan had been back for six years.

“Yes. They’re kept there permanently for scientific research. I’m not personally involved in the core drilling operation. Our research here is more about measuring the advance and retreat of glaciers. But the rest of the year, back home, we get to peer into the ice samples and tease out primeval mysteries.” Jordan grinned mischievously, as if there was something deliciously wicked about studying old ice. “You clearly didn’t stay in science,” she said good-naturedly. “What do you do?”

Kelly roused herself from her thoughts to say, “I’m a photographer. I’m here with a journalist. He specializes in Greenland.”

“What’s his name?”

“Charles Lance.”

Jordan nodded. “I know Chuck. He’s been here several times before. In fact, I have a message from him asking to come out to talk. So apparently you’ll be back here soon on a professional visit.”

Kelly couldn’t tell if that was good or bad news for Jordan.

“The Arctic must seem like heaven to a photographer,” Jordan observed.

“Yes. It’s the light, the round the clock light. Normally, twilight is so fleeting. It’s that magic time of the evening photographers covet. But here, it’s sunset all night long. Perpetual twilight. It’s incredible, really. I’ve been feeling a kind of giddiness ever since I arrived.”

“I can imagine,” Jordan replied. “Like the feeling I had the first time I came here. Twilight to a photographer must be like ice to a glaciologist. And Greenland has them both in massive quantities.”

“Speaking of ice,” Brian said, “we lost track of one of our buoys yesterday and I’d like to try to find it tomorrow.”

The conversation slipped into work topics again as they finished their meal, leaving Kelly as observer. What she mainly observed was Jordan, who seemed relaxed and sure of herself. To Kelly, she was friendly, but not personal. Not that Kelly expected her to be in front of her students. She hoped to spend some time alone with her later where they could be more open with one another.

She soon discovered Jordan had no such hopes when she pushed her chair back and said, “Sonja, can Kelly bunk with you tonight?”

“Sure. I’ll take care of her.” Sonja’s mouth turned up in a subtle, ironic smile as she struggled to suppress her glee. She gave her head a toss, flinging her straight bangs away from her eyes.

“Great,” said Jordan. “I’ve got some work to do, so I’ll say good night. If I hear any news, Kelly, I’ll let you know right away.”

With that, Jordan left the table and walked rapidly toward her tent, leaving Kelly with the impression that she couldn’t wait to be rid of her.

Chapter Twelve

The storm that had come up overnight continued into the day, confining Asa and Gudny to their burrow. They stayed dry and comfortable inside, wrapped together in their furs and skins. But even without the storm they would not have been able to travel today. During the night the child Asa had been carrying, amid much pain and bleeding, had been stillborn. The ordeal left her weak and anguished, and she curled up next to Gudny in her cocoon and slept through most of the next day, comforting herself with the belief that the child, a boy, had been spared a life of hardship.

When she woke, they ate what was left of the food. She hadn’t planned on an extra day. Though she was still not fully recovered, she knew they had to push on while the weather allowed or they might be trapped by another storm and starve to death.

It was afternoon when they left the cave, emerging into sunshine and straggling gray clouds. A breeze coming off the icy bay bit at their noses. She knew it wasn’t likely they would find any more shelter, so she planned to keep walking as long as possible, through the night, hoping to reach the village by morning.

As evening approached, Asa spotted a herd of reindeer grazing close to the shoreline. She picked up Gudny and placed her on her shoulders so she could see them. There’s that smile, Asa thought, leaning her head back to look at Gudny’s delighted face. It cheered her to see it, as it always did. Back on her feet, Gudny walked beside her, holding her hand. Their pace was not fast, but it was steady.

Gudny’s good mood was short-lived as twilight descended. She was tired and hungry and continued to remind her mother of both conditions. Asa was having her own problems, feeling weak and struggling with the weight of her pack. There was a persistent pain in her abdomen and she knew she couldn’t carry both the pack and Gudny. Their rest stops came more frequently, which worried Asa, and when they came to an impassable ravine that stretched far inland, she nearly burst into tears.

“What’s the matter, Mama?” Gudny asked, tugging at her clothes.

Asa sighed and slipped the pack off her back, letting it fall to the ground. “I’m tired, hungry and sore. I don’t know if I can go on.”

Gudny leaned against Asa’s legs. “It’ll be all right,” she said softly, echoing Asa’s earlier words to her.

Asa took hold of Gudny’s hand and stared into the ravine at her feet. It was deep, jagged and in a strange way welcoming. One step and all of the misery of life would be over. If her hand had been empty, it would have been an easy step to take.

Gudny slipped away and took hold of the strap on the pack, tugging at it. “Do you want me to carry this?” She heaved, gritting her teeth and screwing up her little face, dragging the pack across the ground.

Asa laughed and reached down to take it from her, recommitted to her task. They walked parallel to the ravine until it came to an end at a trickling brook. They stopped at the brook to drink. As Asa squatted beside it, she spotted a patch of bright green further up. She walked up to investigate.

“Kvan!” she shouted with delight.

The large-leaved plants grew in the soft gravel beside the brook. Gudny sat on a rock while Asa cut down several plants with her stone knife.

“You like kvan,” she reminded Gudny, handing her a stalk.

Gudny held it in her gloved hand, looking puzzled.

“Eat it,” Asa urged. She demonstrated by taking a bite off a stem. Gudny did the same, frowned, then ate some more. She had never eaten raw kvan. Normally, they cooked it in milk, which was much better, but it wasn’t so bad this way.

Asa tied a bundle of kvan to the outside of her pack and they set off again, both of them chewing a stalk of the plant. She felt more optimistic now that they had some food. As they worked their way back on the other side of the ravine, she looked south along the shoreline and thought she recognized a certain rocky point. She couldn’t be sure, but if it was the landmark she thought it was, they were two and a half hours from home. Two or two and a half hours for a healthy adult. For the two of them, maybe three and a half. Still, that was wonderful to realize…if it were true. She tried not to get too excited. One rocky point looked a lot like another. If it was the one she knew, they would find out as soon as they got high enough to see past it. There was an island on the other side of it, jutting up from the frozen bay. It was a favorite roost of birds and was shaped like Thor’s hammer lying on its side. The handle of the hammer faced east. There would be no mistaking that landmark, if it was there.

Asa quickened her step, anxious to get the view that would tell her they were nearly home.

Chapter Thirteen

Kelly was disappointed that Jordan hadn’t offered to share her tent. It was possible she was unhappy with Kelly’s sudden appearance here. She’d thought she’d gotten rid of her years ago, that annoying besotted girl whose uncontrolled passions sapped her energy. But I’m not that girl anymore, Kelly inwardly objected, at the same time realizing Jordan couldn’t know that. That’s what Kelly was here to prove.

Exhausted both physically and emotionally, she retired to Sonja’s dome-shaped tent. She spread her borrowed sleeping bag on a cot next to Sonja’s. Then she took off her boots and lay on top of the sleeping bag, staring up at the bright blue fabric stretched tight across the tent’s aluminum skeleton. The sound of music reached her ears indistinctly.

It had been over two hours since she got here. The more time that went by, the more worried she got about Pippa. She had heard nothing yet.
Why was it taking so long?
She yearned for and dreaded the moment when she would hear that Pippa had been found.

A shadow outside the tent distracted her. The flap opened and Sonja ducked inside carrying a cookie. She dropped onto her cot and broke the cookie in half.

“I brought dessert,” she said.

Kelly rolled onto her side and took the offering. It was peanut butter, soft and sweet and just the right thing to cap off the night.

“Thanks.”

Sonja sat on the edge of her cot facing Kelly. “Are you all set?”