Surviving Antarctica (6 page)

Andrew never got chosen in things like this, so he looked out the window.

“You.” Her finger pointed right at Billy.

Billy beamed. He was her favorite. He had known it.

The Secretary handed Billy the watch. “Does anybody else have a watch?” She carefully studied their faces.

No one said anything.

Billy had pawned his a long time ago. He strapped the team watch onto his wrist. It looked really high-tech. He started playing with the buttons.

“Great,” the Secretary said.

Billy looked up. “Hey. I can’t change the time.”

“That’s correct. No matter what time zone you’re in, you’ll stay on what I call ‘studio time’
for the convenience of our production department.”

Polly looked at the watch on Billy’s wrist. Fantasy time. If only this survivor show turned out to be a fantasy and not a horror show.

“You’ll make our lives easier if you live by its time,” the Secretary finished.

Or die by its time, Polly thought.

Who cares about making the Secretary’s life easier? Robert asked himself.

With the buttons disabled, the watch no longer interested Billy. He leaned back and enjoyed the soft leather seats, the headrest, and the heater. He tried to guess the number of packs of Chocobombs in his backpack. He had never had so much candy before in his life.

It was dark outside, but Polly saw lots of people on the street. A man carrying a few sheets of plywood paused and stared at their limo as it drove past him. Polly wanted to say, “Don’t envy us.”

A while later Andrew heard something and looked around. Billy was snoring with his mouth wide open.

It was strange that the kids had spoken so little to one another. Polly had already decided that Grace, the only other girl on the trip, didn’t
like to talk. Andrew looked as if he were going to cry if she smiled at him, and she seemed beneath Robert’s and Billy’s notice. The five of them could be together for months. She stared out the window at the buildings rushing by. The worst was that she hadn’t even gotten to say good-bye to Mama.

Before Polly left, Mama cried over her and bought her favorite foods—blueberry and pickle chips—and damned the government. And then, in a final frenzy, she swore never, ever to watch television again—after the
Antarctic Historical Survivor
series was over, of course.

“We could win,” Polly had tried to reassure her.

“Ah, you could,” her mother said. “Wouldn’t that be lovely? You know, the guy from
Civil War Historical Survivor
has his own game show.” That man was at least six feet five, with a craggy face and muscles like mountains. “You don’t have muscles, Polly, but you have the Memory.” Her mother smiled sweetly at her.

“But what use will the Memory be at the South Pole?” Polly had asked. Terror rose in her soul at just the thought of long stretches of whiteness. The Antarctic had to be like blank paper.
Tears had rolled out of the corners of Mama’s eyes and down her face. “Who knows?” she said.

Polly closed her eyes. She liked sitting in this limo. She wished that she could stay here for three months.
Limo Survivor
would be just fine.

The Secretary cleared her throat and pulled down her short skirt, but Grace noticed that it was still way above her knees.

“I like to get together with my contestants before the action starts.” The Secretary patted her coiffed hair. “I want you to know that I’m on your side.”

Robert had tried to talk a man in the lobby of the hotel into letting him use his cell phone. The man had refused, but they had gotten into a conversation about the Department of Entertainment. Robert had learned that the Secretary had a nickname. It fit her, and Robert wanted to call this woman “Hot Sauce” now. Instead, he forced himself to use his most polite tone. “Ms. Secretary, I still have some questions.”

“You mean that you were briefed for days and you didn’t get your questions answered?” Although she was smiling, the Secretary’s green eyes flashed with anger.

Polly could tell that Robert was struggling to
invent a tart response. She broke in. “We were in the hospital, then I felt groggy, then we were on television, and now we’re leaving.”

The Secretary ignored Polly. “What can you possibly want to know, Robert?”

“Where will the cameras be?” Robert felt relieved that Polly had interrupted, but at the same time resentful. He didn’t need a bookworm’s help.

“Ah,” the Secretary said. “
Survivor
’s secret.”

“How will we know where we need to go? Will there be any maps?” Robert asked.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” The Secretary crossed her legs.

Polly choked out her most worrisome question. “If there’s trouble, will the camera crew help us?”

Robert glared at her. He didn’t want or need anybody’s help.

“No,” the Secretary said to Polly. “We never intervene.”

“But we’re kids,” Polly said. “We don’t deserve to die.”

Robert corrected Polly: “We don’t want special favors.”

“Our viewers would not allow us to stop the simulation. It would ruin the game,” the Secretary said. “Robert, Polly …” She smiled.
“We have found that the less you know, the more exciting the adventure is. So no more questions about the game.”

That’s okay, Robert told himself. Hot Sauce was unfair, just like the world he lived in. He was used to it.

Polly wanted to pull out a hunk of the Secretary’s red hair.

“But if you want to ask me anything about my personal life, I’d be happy to answer,” the Secretary said. “I’d love to get to know you kids.”

The Secretary only wanted to talk about herself, Grace realized.

“Do we get points for asking questions?” Robert asked.

The Secretary threw back her head and laughed as if he had told a great joke.

“Then I’m not asking any … Hot Sauce,” Robert added under his breath.

Getting to know somebody before you hurt them is cruel, Polly thought. She wondered why the woman was so mean. “Were you always rich?”

“No. I wouldn’t have had the money to go to college,” the Secretary said indignantly, “but I won my Toss fair and square. After college, I lucked out and got a job as a TV talk show host. You may be too young, but did you ever see
The Grossest Jobs in the World?”

Polly shook her head.

“Well, that was my show. I was young and idealistic back then. Now I try to face the facts. Games like the Toss and
Survivor
are the fairest way that I know to decide who gets a chance.” She looked at Grace and batted her eyelashes. “Don’t you think so, Grace?”

Grace turned away and stared out the window.

“Grace?” the Secretary said sharply. “We like our contestants to have some personality.”

“Sure,” Grace murmured. She wondered what Washington, D.C., would look like dressed all in snow.

Andrew tried to wiggle his ears.

“Well, usually my contestants are more talkative. We are able to form a little bond that helps them get through the disappointments of the show. But if you all want to just sit there and stare out the window, fine.”

Hot Sauce grinned at Robert as if to say, “See, I’m that cool.”

Robert liked ignoring her.

Billy snored on.

“We’re here.” The Secretary shook Billy’s shoulder.

“What?” Billy mumbled. He smelled her sweet perfume as he opened his eyes.

“We’re at the dock.”

Billy gazed at the Secretary’s red lips and red-tinted sunglasses before turning to stare out the smoked-glass window.

It was dark outside. He noticed a sign that said
NORFOLK NAVAL DOCK.
He could see that the other kids were already climbing the gangplank to the ship. It had been incredibly stupid of him to fall asleep.

“Your ship, the
Terra Nova
.” The Secretary smiled.

Then again, maybe not. Suddenly Billy was wide-awake. He faked a yawn.

“Take your time.” The Secretary climbed out of the limo and began walking toward the ship.

Billy glanced at the watch. The glowing dial said ten o’clock. The limo ride had taken four hours. Without hesitating, he slid out of the limo, opened the front door, and snatched his backpack. He kept his eyes glued to the Secretary, but she didn’t look back.

His one arm could barely lift the pack, it was so heavy with delicious food.

Billy didn’t think the Secretary would notice the shape of his backpack in the dim light. But he couldn’t take a chance. He rushed past her
and up the gangplank. He didn’t stop until he was facing her from behind the rail.

The other four had already disappeared.

Billy was the only one of the five to wave good-bye. The Secretary had said that the show started on the ship. Cameras were probably trained on him.

The Secretary smiled and then turned back to her dark limousine.

For the audience, Billy waved once more as the sea wind rushed through his hair.

BILLY STARTED TO
climb belowdecks. He saw Grace and Polly on the stairwell. To hide his fat backpack, he stayed well behind them.

At the bottom of the stairs he found himself alone in a long, gray hallway. He heard noises to his left and walked through an open door into another corridor. He spotted a plain metal door with the name
BILLY
painted on it, as if he were a movie star. He opened the door and found a small cabin with a bunk against a wall and one round porthole. He looked inside the closet. Except for a few coat hangers, it was empty. Then he got down on his knees and peered underneath his bunk. This hiding place would
have to do. He shoved his backpack against the wall.

Billy went out to explore the ship. His new tennis shoes slapped against the metal floor. The lonely sound reverberated in the hallway.

He heard a loud bang. Could they already be at sea?

Billy passed Grace’s cabin. It was open. Grace’s back was to him, and she appeared to be unpacking her skimpy backpack. He wondered if she was one of those girls who chattered away after you got to know them. So far he hadn’t heard her say more than a few words. He walked past her door.

Andrew’s door was closed. Billy looked into Robert’s cabin. His backpack lay on the bunk, but the cabin was empty. Billy didn’t usually want company, but right now he felt like talking. Anything to make him forget that he was on a ship sailing to Antarctica. He decided to go look for Robert.

Robert had already found the engine room. A computerized map hung from the ceiling. It marked the position of the
Terra Nova.
They had just put out to sea in the Atlantic Ocean, many miles from the South Pole, but riding a cushion of air above the surface of the sea, these compucraft
traveled thousands of miles a day.

A door off the engine room was open. Robert went to it and turned on the light. Maps of Antarctica hung on all the walls. The continent looked like a squashed white ball. On one of the maps,
SAFETY HUT
was inscribed next to a dot near the shore. Four
X
s at various distances marked the depots. In the center, someone had scrawled
POLE
in large black letters next to a large dot. Underneath the map, Robert found a typed note:

How hard could riding 150 miles be? If this were a river expedition, Robert would have no doubts. Even though there was quirky and violent weather all over the globe, it had never snowed in Houston. Robert didn’t know anything about traveling in ice and snow. But he’d learned everything he knew about rivers by watching, listening, and using his head. He’d figure out Antarctica. He had to.
Now Robert needed to survey the ship and decide on their next steps. For he was the captain of this ship, he was sure about that.

A metal door on the far wall of the map room caught his attention. The door opened onto a storage room. Shelf upon shelf was filled with boxes. Ropes hung from the walls, and skis from the ceiling. Two giant sleds lay on the floor, next to two smaller ones. He read the label on the end of one of the boxes.
PEMMICAN.
What was that again? With the pocketknife he carried in his wallet, he slashed open the box. It was brown and crumbly stuff. Maybe dog food. He sniffed it. Strange.

Robert touched a bag on the next shelf. A sleeping bag, covered in fur. He stroked the long brown and white hairs. Deerskin? Why couldn’t they have Gore-Tex? But of course. Scott must have used deerskin.

In one of the boxes he found a folded-up tent and some modern-looking shoes. He felt a stab of relief that the Secretary wasn’t accurate in every detail. He examined pairs of old-fashioned skis and a thermometer. He needed to make an inventory. Then he’d hand out supplies to each of the other kids. If the sea voyage was only five days long, he’d better get busy.

He heard a sound in the adjoining room and
stuck his head out of the storage room.

Billy Kanalski, the intense guy, stood in front of the maps. He was staring at them as if he were Robert peering through the fence at Motorworld. “Come help with the supplies,” Robert said. “We’ve got a lot to do.”

Billy nodded, but his gaze lingered before he turned away to join Robert in the supply room.

From the moment Grace had stepped onto the deck, she’d had the feeling that something alive was on board. Walking down the stairs belowdecks, she took a deep breath and smelled paint and salt and water and … animals? After stowing her stuff, she followed the scent. Halfway down a narrow circular stairway she heard scuffling noises. Then a dog howled. She knew that she had been right, and was glad.

The room at the base of the stairs was crowded with barrels and harnesses. The sounds came from behind a closed door. She leaned her ear against it and guessed that there were ten or fifteen dogs, maybe more. She opened the door a crack. Gnashing their teeth, the dogs lunged at the door. She slammed it in their faces. They’d looked like huskies, white with brown and black markings. How long had
they been down there? Did they have food and water? She cracked open the door again and spotted a barrel of water on the far side of the room, but no food.