Once Upon a Time in the North (11 page)

The officer at the wheel cut the throttle and the launch drifted neatly to a halt beside a wooden jetty. A moment later it was secured, and Lee stood up to follow the Customs men ashore.

There was a huddle of low buildings around the Company offices, and they took Lee first to sign for the return of his balloon. The clerk looked at him without surprise.

"You found someone to fight with, then," he said.

Lee saw that the storage fee had already been paid, and so had the bill for the gas. He pushed the release form back across the counter without a word; the fact was that he could think of nothing to say.

"This way, Mr. Scoresby," said the Lieutenant.

He led Lee to a washroom, where Lee painfully stripped to the waist, cleaned himself as best he could, and with Hester's help examined the damage. He was glad to see that McConville's bullet had gone through the muscle of his shoulder and out again; it might have clipped the bone on the way, but at least he wouldn't have to dig the damn thing out. As for his ear, that was too bad. He could still hear with it.

"Wasn't all that pretty anyway," said Hester.

"Prettiest one I had," said Lee.

The officer knocked on the door. "Mr. Scoresby," he called, "there is a medical man here who will look at you."

Lee opened the door, shivering in the brisk wind, and found Lieutenant Haugland, smiling, standing on the cinder path next to Iorek Byrnison.

The bear was carrying a bundle of dark green in his mouth, which he dropped into the officer's hands.

"Bloodmoss," he said. "Let me see your wounds."

"A truly remarkable specific," said the officer as Lee turned to show the bear his shoulder. "It has antiseptic and analgesic properties superior to anything in our hospitals."

Iorek took a few strands of the moss and chewed them briefly. He dropped the pounded mess into Lee's right hand.

"Lay it in the wound and bind it up," he said. "It will heal quickly."

"Well, thank you kindly, York Byrnison," said Lee. "I appreciate that."

He did his best with the soggy moss. The Lieutenant tore off a strip of adhesive tape and bound the wound for him, and Lee pulled his shirt on again.

While his head was still inside it, he heard quick footsteps on the path, and another man's voice: one he recognized. He held still a moment to think what to do, and then he pulled the shirt down to see the dark-suited figure of the poet and journalist Oskar Sigurdsson, notebook in hand, talking eagerly to the Lieutenant.

"... and it occurred to me that— Ah! The hero himself! Mr. Scoresby, I congratulate you on your safe escape! Would it be too much trouble to ask you for an interview about this remarkable episode?"

Lee looked around. The jetty was only a few yards away.

He said, "Why, certainly, Mr. Sigurdsson, but I think we need a little privacy. Come with me."

He led the way out, and Sigurdsson followed eagerly. When they were at the end of the jetty, Lee pointed out to sea.

'You see that spot on the horizon? Might be a ship?"

Sigurdsson peered, sheltering his eyes.

"I think so—" he began, but he got no further, because Lee stepped behind him and swung his foot hard against the poet's backside. With a cry of alarm Sigurdsson shot forward and into the sea, arms flailing.

Lee walked back to the washroom and said, "Mr. Sigurdsson seems to have fallen into the water. He might need a hand to get out. I'd oblige myself, but unfortunately I'm indisposed."

"I think it is lucky for us that you are leaving, Mr. Scoresby," said Haugland. "Petersen! Bring him ashore and wring him out, if you would."

Another man ran to the end of the jetty with a life belt, but before Lee could see Sigurdsson rescued, there was the sound of yet more footsteps, and in a hurry this time; and as Lee was pulling on his coat, around the corner of the buildings came another of his acquaintances.

"Mr. Vassiliev!" Lee said. 'You come to say goodbye?"

The economist was out of breath, and his eyes were wide with anxiety.

"They are coming this way—the Larsen security men—they have orders to kill you and the bear— Poliakov is furious—"

Iorek Byrnison growled and turned to the sea, but Vassiliev went on:

"They have a gunboat on its way too. There's no way out."

"There's one way," said Lee. 'You ever flown in a balloon, York Byrnison?"

"Iorek," growled the bear. "No, Mr. Scarsby, I have not."

"Iorek. Got it. And I'm Scoresby, but make it Lee. Well, now's the time, Iorek. Mr. Vassiliev, good day, and thanks."

He shook hands with the economist, and the officer accompanied Lee and the bear to the balloon, which was shivering with impatience to be free of its tether and take to the sky. Lee checked everything: it was all in good order.

"Go," said Haugland, and shook his hand. "Oh— take your rifle."

He handed Lee the Winchester, which Lee took with pleasure; he felt as if it had been made for him. He wrapped it in oilcloth before stowing it carefully inside the gondola.

'You ready, Iorek?" he said.

"This is strange to me," said the bear. "But I will trust you. You are a man of the Arctic."

"I am? How's that?"

'Your daemon is an Arctic hare."

"A
what
?" said Hester. "I thought I was a damn jackrabbit!"

"Arctic hare," said Iorek briefly, and Haugland nodded.

Lee was as amazed as she was, but there wasn't time to stop and discuss the matter. Iorek clambered over the side into the capacious gondola, having tested the strength of it to his own satisfaction, and then Lee joined him.

"Lieutenant Haugland, I'm obliged to you, sir," he said. "But I still don't see how you knew who I was, and where I was boarding."

'You may thank Miss Victoria Lund," the Lieutenant continued, "to whom, as of this morning, I have the honor to be engaged. She told me that you had been very courteous towards her."

Lee tugged off his hat and scratched his head, and then rammed his hat on again and tugged it low, because he was blushing.

"Please—ah—convey my respects to Miss Lund," he mumbled. "I congratulate you on your engagement, sir. Miss Lund is a remarkable young lady."

He dared not look at Hester.

"Hmm," he went on. "Well, let's get away. Iorek, if I need two hands, you might have to help me out a little till that bloodmoss kicks in. Stand clear now!"

He released the tether, and the balloon sprang upwards with the swift assurance of a craft that knew where it was going and was eager to get there. It felt like a living thing. Lee loved that first rush of speed, and so did Hester.

He checked all his instruments, and looked around the sky, and then looked down at the rapidly diminishing scene below. With the help of his field glasses Lee made out a little shivering figure wrapped in blankets on the jetty. Along the road from the town a convoy of armored cars was moving towards the depot, and from further down the coast a gunboat was speeding in the same direction with a great deal of flashy spray.

Further away, he could see the schooner just passing the lighthouse. The crew had raised the sails, and the ship was catching the strong east wind that was speeding the balloon on its way.

Iorek was crouching low on the floor of the basket, keeping absolutely still. At first Lee thought he was asleep, but then he realized that the great bear was afraid.

'You reckon young Lieutenant Haugland will deal with those Larsen Manganese bullies?" Lee said, to distract him; he had no doubt himself.

'Yes. I have a high regard for him."

Lee thought that the bear's high regard would be a thing worth having.

Hester moved along the floor, closer to the bear's head, and settled down to speak to him quietly. Lee left her to it, and checked the barometer, the gas-pressure gauge, and the compass again, not that the compass was much of a help in these latitudes; and then he took out the rifle, looked it over thoroughly, cleaned it, and oiled it with a new can of machine oil, which he found to his surprise in the toolbox. He wrapped it up again carefully before making sure it was safely strapped to a stanchion. He'd learned his lesson; he looked after it well for the rest of his life, and thirty-five years later, the Winchester was in his hands when he died.

Looking around his unnaturally tidy gondola, he discovered some neatly wrapped packets in the starboard locker, and opened one to find some rye crispbread and hard cheese. He also discovered that he was very hungry.

Some time later, when they were high in the blue sky and everything was well, Lee opened his kitbag to take out his warm waistcoat. His clothes were more neatly folded than they had ever been, and there was a sprig of lavender on the top.

"Well, Hester," he said, "this has been a surprising day, and no mistake. How's Iorek over there?"

"Asleep," she said. "What's surprising? You acting the fool and kissing that lavender ain't surprising."

"No, I don't reckon that is. I could lose my heart to that girl. Flying with a bear, now—that's surprising."

"More surprising if you left him there. You wouldn't do that. If we couldn't take him, we'd stand and fight beside him."

"Well, all right then. Finding out that you're an Arctic hare—that's surprising. Damn, I was surprised."

"Surprised? Why the hell were you surprised? I ain't surprised," said Hester. "Iorek's right. I always knew I had more class than a rabbit."

THE END

PERIL OF THE POLE

Once every decade the great Rally to the Pole is flown in the far frozen north. Intrepid balloonists and their daemons from across the Arctic, both professional traders and daring amateurs, gather together at the city of Reykjavik in Fireland to contest this perilous competition of amazing skill and death-defying hazard. By tradition the race starts in the perfect ballooning weather conditions of early autumn, when the ocean is still frozen. But this is the calm before the storm, and the first catastrophic tempests of winter can arrive without warning and cause disaster.

So dangerous is the race that there have been repeated calls for it to be banned. For as everyone knows, at the North Pole there is a vast system of caverns leading into the center of the earth, where the Polar Ocean swirls downward in a great vortex of water and ice. It is so horribly dangerous that no one has ever gone there and come back alive.

Now you and your daemon can experience all the thrills of the Rally to the Pole together. Normal game courtesies apply and players may only confer with their daemons. You will need one die and a pencil.

Too exciting for children under 5
years of age.

RULES OF PLAY

I.
                  
This game is for four to six players and their daemons. Each player should select a different colored Balloon Piece.

II.
               
Decide who goes first with a roll of the die. Whoever scores the lowest launches their balloon first, before the rest of the field. This player's roll is doubled because of clear skies.

III.
            
Players then take their turns in clockwise order from the first player and roll the die to decide how far they go.