The Antarcticans (10 page)

“I expected more from you,” the vice president told Lucifer.

“I echo the sentiment,” Lucifer replied.

“You’re a power-hungry fool.”

“Mr. Vice President”—Lucifer leaned into him and whispered in his ear—“if you think you’re in your position for a reason other than me, you’re mistaken. Be careful not to undo the political power you’ve worked so hard to amass.” He patted him on the shoulder and continued through the doors, not glancing back.

To a limited degree, Gavin was learning his way around the
Dragon
. When he and Noila exited the lift on Deck Seven, he knew which hallway to take then recognized the doors to the medical research center. Instead of the attendant who had sat behind the desk the first time he was here to meet Dr. Cristofari, a holographic male in white medical scrubs was being projected into the chair.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Pennings. Please follow the floor illuminations to your son’s room,” he told them.

The glossy travertine floor tiles turned a hue of green, each with an image of Joshua and an arrow pointing in the direction they should walk. Noila recognized the picture of him, which had been taken last year at school. They followed the image through the hallway, past patients’ rooms. The experiments that had been running the last time Gavin was here had taken place in dimly lit rooms, and now only a few rooms were illuminated by the glow of patients who were looking at computer screens. When they reached Joshua’s room, the door slid open. Noila wasn’t sure they were in the right place. There was someone on the bed, awake, with his or her entire body and face covered in an opaque white film. There were two holes for nostrils with small devices carefully screwed into place.

“Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad,” Joshua said.

“Oh, honey, it’s you. Can you see us? I can’t see your eyes,” Noila said, relieved they hadn’t wandered into someone else’s room.

“Yeah, it’s kinda cool how I see things. It’s almost like you’re on a TV screen.”

Gavin and Noila exchanged worried glances and sat down next to the bed.

“What have you been doing since you’ve been here?” Noila asked. “The only news we get of you is that you are in good condition and that your vital signs are normal. Not very comforting,”

“Hard to explain. They checked me in; I saw the doctor. They got me showered, and then they removed all the hair from my body.”

Noila reached out and touched his head, looking worried. “Did they shave your head too?”

“Yeah. The whole process was embarrassing, but they said I couldn’t have any hair, ’cause it interrupts their signals or something. Then they put this suit on me. Since then, I’ve just been watching these images that come and go from my vision. I can’t really control them. Sometimes they wake me up, and then I’m not sure if I fall asleep or what. It’s weird. But Margie has been here with me, keeping me company, so it’s fine.”

Noila looked at Gavin and shook her head when he mentioned Margie. The white fabric suddenly turned black around his head. Green numbers and statistics appeared from the dark background and scrolled over the surface of his head.

“I’m okay, guys. Um, Margie says I have to go now. I have to go look at pictures.” He laid his head back against the bed and exhaled.

“Do you want us to leave?” Noila asked.

No answer.

Noila leaned over and kissed her son on the head. The suit left a metallic taste on her lips. She put her arm in Gavin’s, and the images appeared on the floor again to lead them out. They took the lift to the upper deck so they could walk around in the outside air. The biting ocean night was abrupt when they stepped off the lift.

“What are they doing to him?” Gavin asked.

“I intend to find out tomorrow. It appears there’s some sort of mental reprogramming happening. Heaven knows what they’re putting into his head,” Noila said.

“This is a strange place. Are you sure you want to go on that expedition to Antarctica? Who knows who you’ll be trapped with down there.”

“Stop being so unsure of everything. Let’s just do this and know it’s for Joshua. The rest we can pray about.”

Gavin nodded. “Fine, fine. But you know how much I hate uncertainty. So do you know for sure when the ship will sail?”

“They wouldn’t tell me. They just told me to be ready, and someone will let me know when it’s time. Apparently we’re headed south right now to rendezvous with the
Viking
. From there, depending on where we meet them, it’s about a twelve-day trip. I’m actually looking forward to it. I haven’t been trapped in isolation with a bunch of other scientists since grad school. There’s something about everyone working toward the same goal that’s really invigorating. I know you feel it in your work too. Sometimes when you’re away on mission trips, and you come back and tell me about the collective push for the ministry and whatever you’re building or trying to accomplish there—well, it’s always reminded me of my work. In all the craziness with Joshua, I think it’ll do me some good to get away. I’ve felt like I’ve lost who I am, and all his problems are an overwhelming force that’s swept who we all are out to sea.”

They were leaning against the railing, looking down at the water rushing by.

“You don’t remember what today is?” Noila turned her head and looked at him.

Gavin shook his head. “No, should I?”

“Nineteen years.”

“Damn, well, I forget at least every other year, don’t I?” he said lightly.

“And here I was thinking that was what our impromptu shower scene was about,” she said with a laugh.

“Happy anniversary.” Gavin looked at his watch. “We still have a few hours left.”

The next few days bled together in a collection of visits to Joshua’s room, where most of the time he was speaking to someone neither Noila nor Gavin could see. Gavin relaxed on the lounge deck, did research in the ship’s library, and used the conference facilities to communicate with his church. Dr. Cristofari repeatedly reassured Gavin and Noila that the treatment was progressing well, and although she couldn’t guarantee anything, she had high hopes for Joshua.

The screen in Gavin and Noila’s room suddenly flashed. Noila got up from the couch where she sat reading next to Gavin and answered the call. A middle-aged man with a shaved head and a gray cable-knit wool sweater appeared in the room. If Noila didn’t know better, she would have thought he was actually standing there.

“We’ll dock with your ship in two hours. Go to the cargo bay on Deck Three. Don’t pack any clothing other than your undergarments.”

Noila started to protest.

“Trust me. You don’t have the right clothing for the Antarctic.”

He put his hand up in a stationary wave, and his image disappeared.

“Well, I guess that takes care of packing,” Noila said, as she walked over to her suitcase, which she had been rearranging. She pulled out her panties and bras and shoved them into a tote bag. “That’s just creepy, images appearing in your room. This whole ship creeps me out. I feel like someone’s always watching us.” She paused for a long moment. “Are you going to be okay here for the time I’m gone? It sounds like it’ll be at least two months with travel time. Who knows how long it’ll take for Joshua to get better. Please promise me you won’t leave until the treatment is finished. I don’t want him here alone. Don’t get me wrong—I’m grateful for everything they’re doing, but I can’t say I trust them. The whole situation feels like it’s been forced on us,” she said in rapid fire.

“I’ll handle it. Everything will be okay. I do, however, reserve the right to pull him out of here.” Gavin put his book down and sat on the edge of the couch, resting his arms on his thighs.

“Don’t, Gavin…I don’t know that much about psychiatry, but remember, he’s been through everything, and nothing has helped. We’re kind of at our last try here, and I don’t want to lose him.” Tears began to fill her eyes.

“He never went to the center we discussed in Memphis.”

“And he never will. It’s a bunch of quacks down there parading as doctors.”

“No, they’re deeply faithful people using God’s power to heal the sick.”

“If God wanted to heal the sick, he would heal them. He doesn’t need someone to mediate and pay a handling fee on his behalf. We’ve already been through this.” She pulled out a small notebook from her suitcase and brought it over to him. “This isn’t the best timing, but since I’m leaving so unexpectedly, I thought you should know.” She handed him the red moleskin book.

Gavin undid the elastic band and opened it. He looked at the times and dates listed, each with a note regarding who had called and what they’d said.

“Did you talk to them?” he asked.

“Sometimes. Other times they left messages.”

“I know,” he said.

“There was a lot going on, and I thought you didn’t want to deal with your church. I thought that’s why you hadn’t checked in with them.” She paused and processed what he had said. “Wait, you knew?”

“Yes, I was too embarrassed to tell you.”

“Why did they take your ordination away?”

“Someone must have found out what I was doing.”

“I’m so sorry, honey, especially considering what we’ve been going through with Joshua.” She put her hand on his head and caressed his temple. “Let’s deal with what’s in front of us. When we get back, I’ll help you get back to where you want to be. All right, I have to get ready. Sorry…I know it feels like bad timing.”

“I’d say.” Gavin shook his head, took a deep breath in, and looked straight ahead with wide eyes. “Feels like everything is bad timing these days.”

Noila showered, dressed, and slung her bag over her shoulder. She saw Gavin hunched over the Gospel of Thomas. He’d been translating it since they came on board. He was scribbling translation notes in the margin then looking back over his translation dictionary, making comparisons.

“Okay, I’m leaving,” she announced.

Gavin jumped up from his chair. “Wait a minute. I’ll walk you down there.”

“Please.” She held her hand up in protest. “You know I hate good-byes. Even if they’re just for a little bit.”

Gavin thought back to the first time they were separated. It was a year or so into their marriage, before Joshua was born. He was a newly appointed pastor and was heading up a one-month mission in Honduras. Noila was still crying when he had called her from the local bar to let her know he had arrived safely.

“Fair enough.” He kissed her and gave her a long, loving hug. “I hope you enjoy every minute of it down there. Sounds like a great adventure. I’m proud of you. I know you’ve been waiting for something like this for a long time.”

Noila turned quickly and walked out the door to the lift at the end of the hall. The carpet in the hallway was red and thick with gold designs snaking through it. Her feet sunk into it with every step. She noticed the ornate crystal sconces and textured wallpaper, which made her feel as if she were walking through a palace.
I could get used to this
, she thought. She sighed.
Am I really doing the right thing, working on a research ship?
The doubts plagued her.

She arrived at a door that led to a cargo bay. A small red light illuminated above the door and scanned her body; then a sound chimed, and the door opened. The smell of jet fuel and metal overwhelmed her. She stepped off the lush carpet onto the cold, oily, grated metal floor. The area she stepped into looked like it went on forever. Large transoceanic shipping crates filled the space to her right and were stacked up to the ceiling with straps the width of her body holding them in place. Helicopters and fighter jets and some other vehicles she didn’t recognize were parked to her left, with a path to the cargo-bay door, which was open with the light of the full moon bouncing off the water and into the ship, turning the metal an eerie light silver. A small group of people were gathered around the open door. Noila heard hydraulic motors revving, along with the slam and click of metal against metal. The sounds repeated in the same sequence. When she got closer, she saw the
Viking
, a much smaller ship, in the ocean about fifty feet away. It was extending a long, flat bridge to connect with the
Dragon
. The waves, which made the
Dragon
move only slightly, were jostling the
Viking
back and forth. The captain was struggling to hold the long, sleek, gray vessel stable enough so the extended bridge could connect with the docking station on the
Dragon
.

When the bridge snapped into place, the perimeter of the cargo-bay door flashed green, and a long tone, accompanied by a pleasant-sounding British female voice, indicated the connection was secure. The hydraulics fired again, and the flat bridge expanded upward until it was a full jetty that formed a box the group of people could walk through to board the smaller ship. A minute passed before the man whose image had appeared in Noila’s room earlier disembarked from the jetty bridge and jumped off the edge in front of them. He was confident, tall, and well built. He wore the same sweater he’d worn earlier, along with heavy canvas pants tucked into hulking leather boots brimming over with fur. His face was freckled and weathered and looked much older than the rest of his body.