Troubling a Star (26 page)

Read Troubling a Star Online

Authors: Madeleine L'engle

BOOK: Troubling a Star
3.18Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
Shakespeare. It had to be Shakespeare, though I didn't recognize it. I felt cold. Kept on working. Found another phrase: NO MAN'S PIE IS FREED FROM HIS AMBITIOUS FINGER. That made a little more sense. Antarctica was looked at as a huge piece of pie with lots of countries wanting a slice. At the
end I found, like a signature, CONSIDERATION, LIKE AN ANGEL, CAME AND WHIPPED THE OFFENDING ADAM OUT OF HIM.
Double gobbledygook. Science and Shakespeare. Something was going on which should not be going on and he was warning me. The problem was that I did not understand the warning. I had given Adam one warning, about those cards in my locker. But his warnings were becoming more and more urgent.
“Siri,” I said, and she put her harp down. “I've found something.” I handed her the paper.
She read what I'd written out. “Let's show it to Benjy.”
“Okay.”
“It all ties in with Adam's ‘Something rotten in the state of Denmark' card, doesn't it?” She looked at her watch. “We'd better go up to the lounge. It's past time for Wrap-Up, but maybe Sam will have saved a place for us.”
He had, with Angelique and Dick. Quim was telling everybody that we were just starting to enter the Le Maire Channel, one of the most beautiful parts of the trip. It is a narrow gorge that is open only a few weeks a year when enough ice breaks up so that a ship like the
Argosy
can push its way through. “A big cruise ship could never make this,” Sam said with satisfaction.
We started by looking out the windows, then went on deck to see the full beauty. It was so magnificent that the view broke through my preoccupation and confusion. Benjy stood next to me, looking at the indescribable loveliness, his hand lightly on my shoulder.
I noticed that Jorge wasn't taking pictures, and the Le
Maire Channel was probably the most spectacular water the
Argosy
had sailed in. Jorge's usually pleasant expression was tight, his eyes narrowed as though against light much brighter than the pearly twilight we were sailing through.
When the ding-dong rang for dinner we all turned reluctantly to go in. Benjy put his hand on my elbow and spoke to me in a low voice. “Siri showed me how you broke Adam's code. At least we'll get a chance to ask him personally what all this is about when we get to LeNoir. Meanwhile, try to set it aside. Tomorrow Siri will sing to the seals.”
 
It wasn't until we'd anchored off Paradise Bay and Siri slung her harp over her shoulder that I remembered how much I'd been looking forward to her playing for the seals. We were in a Zodiac with Sam, Leilia, Angelique, and Dick, and Benjy was at the outboard. He'd obviously engineered which passengers were going to be with him. Benjy's driving was unlike anybody else's. We hung on to the ropes that ran along the sides of the Zodiac as he whizzed us through ice fields, past crab-eater seals on floes, on to a small island where there was a colony of gentoo penguins. Then we went past nesting shags, Benjy's word for cormorants, high on some cliffs. Finally he pulled up close to an ice floe where three Weddell seals were sleeping, and cut the engine.
“Okay, Siri, let's try it here.”
We were a few yards out from a large crescent of stony land. Beyond us was the tumbled ice of a glacier, filling in the valley and nudging out into the ocean. Clouds covered the top of the mountain, so all we saw was ice.
Siri got out her harp and we made enough space for her on the rubber side of the Zodiac so that she had room to play. Benjy had nestled the Zodiac so close to the floe that she could have stepped out onto it.
She began by running her fingers softly over the strings in a series of chords. Then she played and sang “Speed, Bonny Boat.” One by one the seals lifted their heads, their dark liquid eyes looking at her. Benjy suggested, “Play your ‘Troubling a star' song. That's my favorite, that and Vicky's ‘If it has feathers.'”
Was it just my overactive imagination, or did the seals really move their heads in time to the music? Benjy thought they did, and Benjy is a scientist, accustomed to observing seals as well as penguins. Sam said, “I wish we had Greta's video camera. We really ought to be filming this. Stills aren't enough, and we need sound, too.”
Angelique put her arm around me and gave me a gentle hug. “Oh, Vicky, isn't this marvelous!”
Dick took a few stills, and so did Leilia, but I was too focused on watching and listening to think of anything but the music and the seals.
“I wish we had days and days for this.” Benjy's voice was wistful. “The humpbacks didn't sing for us when we played their music, but they were with us for not much more than an hour.” He looked at Siri. “If you could play for the seals, the same seals, for several days, then we'd have some repeated results to go by. Once isn't enough.” He sighed. Then he held his face up, listening.
There was a sudden silence. Benjy pointed and we looked
toward the glacier. As we watched, a great wall of ice detached itself and fell into the sea. Then came a strange roar, like thunder, only more formidable, cracking the air. Water rose like a geyser, then splashed down like rain as the broken-off wall of ice disappeared. Then followed an intense silence.
Angelique asked, “Was that calving?”
“It was,” Benjy said. “Glad we were here for it. The others will be green. That was a beauty.”
I felt prickles of excitement. It was something momentous to have seen and heard.
“It's getting late. We have to move on.” Benjy pulled the rope to start the outboard motor.
Siri slipped her harp into its canvas case and zipped it. “Antarctica is impersonal. Seals or skuas eat penguins; penguins eat krill; krill eats plankton. But it's only because of the basic need for food, and not human lust for power.”
Dick said calmly, “All life lives at the expense of other life. There isn't any other way.”
 
The water was smooth during the night, and we reached LeNoir Station shortly after an early breakfast, and got into the Zodiacs to go ashore. As usual, Sam was sticking close to me.
We were in the first Zodiac, for once. We drew up to some large, tumbled-looking rocks. We could see a wooden building on top of the cliff. Jason was at the tiller, and showed us how to get out onto the rocks and climb over them to where they went up almost like a natural staircase that led to a wooden walkway.
Benjy and Quimby were standing at the top of the rocks,
holding out helping hands, but they weren't joshing as they usually did. They looked solemn. And shocked.
There were several people from the station standing around. I did not see Adam.
I tried to help Sam up the slippery rocks. I wondered how Dick would manage with his lame leg and his cane. Sam was game, but it wasn't easy for him; then suddenly Jason was by us, giving Sam shoves in just the right way, and then Benjy and Quim leaned down and heaved him up in one quick pull.
I clambered up and stood by Sam, hearing him ask, “What's up?”
“The Leedses have been calling all the stations. It seems that Papageno has disappeared.”
Cook was with Papageno. Where was Adam?
It was apparent that Quim and Benjy were deeply upset.
Benjy said, “They're afraid something has happened.”
In my confusion over Adam's last letter, I'd forgotten to tell Benjy about seeing the
Portia.
I blurted out, “But—listen, Benjy, just before we docked at Palmer Station, I saw the
Portia
pulling away.”
“Are you sure?”
“Not a hundred percent. But it was an old blue boat. It looked like the
Portia.
And if it was, Papageno and Cook were on it.”
Benjy made a thinking-humming noise. “Okay. We know they've been off on the boat for a while, but Papageno always answers when Rusty Leeds calls. Or the Coast Guard. He checks in every day. But for the past forty-eight hours there hasn't been a response. The Coast Guard has a search party
out. The
Portia
's a stable old tub, but even if you saw it leaving Palmer Station, the fact that it hasn't been heard from in two days is going to get out, and I wanted you to hear it from me.”
“Where's Adam?” I demanded.
Benjy looked startled. “Isn't he here?”
“I don't see him, and it would be sort of natural for him to come out and say hello when we arrived.”
Then I heard, “Vickee!” and Esteban was walking toward me.
 
I didn't see Jorge to translate for us, but Esteban, talking with Benjy, managed to make us understand that he and Adam were a governmental swap, in mutual appreciation and trust between Vespugia and the United States. Esteban was going to be able to observe what was going on in the labs at LeNoir Station, and Adam would be doing the same at one of the Vespugian stations.
It sounded plausible, but my nose twitched and I smelled something very rotten in the state of Denmark. Or Vespugia. Or wherever. And Esteban seemed to be overemphasizing and at the same time looking embarrassed.
Gary and Todd were helping the last few passengers climb up onto the rocks and the wooden walk, and I was glad to see Dick making it, with Angelique behind him and Jason beside him holding the cane until Dick could reach out for Gary. Benjy and Quim were herding people into a loose bunch, and Quimby said, “We'll divide you into two groups again, and those in the second group will have a chance now to look at the shop. There are some sweatshirts, for those of
you who didn't buy them at Palmer, and some other things that might interest you—film for your cameras, for instance.”
Jason said, “Benjy will escort the first group, and I'll go with the second.”
He had a hard time making himself heard, because several people recognized Esteban and were clamoring to know how he came to be at LeNoir Station, and this time Jorge appeared and did the explaining, so it didn't take too long.
Benjy saw to it that I was in the first group, along with Angelique and Dick, and Siri, who was with Greta. I didn't see Otto. Usually his golden looks made him very visible, and I looked around but didn't catch a glimpse of him. Jack Nessinger's cowboy hat towered over several people's heads.
Esteban walked along beside Benjy, as did another young man from the station, a nice young man who reminded me painfully of Adam, though he was probably several years older. He smiled at me, at all of us, and said, “I'm coming along with you to tell you what we're doing here at the station.” First he pointed out the functions of the various buildings: the two labs, the dorm, the refectory and recreation rooms. We went into one of the labs, which looked like a modern version of Papageno's at Port Stanley. There were several graph machines making squiggly lines on paper, and tanks with various kinds of plankton.
I was paying only minimal attention to what was being said, and missed what appeared to be a semi-lecture by Benjy. Where was Adam? Where were Papageno and Cook? Why was Esteban at LeNoir Station? Everybody else seemed to have taken his explanation at face value. I didn't.
Benjy was talking about emperor penguins.
“I hope we're going to see some emperor penguins in real life before the trip is over.” Greta moved so that she was standing near Jorge. “Doesn't the male emperor fledge the eggs, or whatever you call it?”
Benjy explained, “The male emperor incubates the eggs on his feet for sixty-four to sixty-seven days, covering them with a flap of abdominal skin.”
“Where're the females?” Jack Nessinger asked. He had the hood of his parka pushed back and was now carrying his cowboy hat in one hand.
“Once she's expended her energy laying her two eggs, the female takes off,” Benjy said. “The male loses approximately half his body weight during the incubation period.”
“Why?” Angelique asked.
“He fasts.”
“Why?”
“It's a little difficult to go fishing with an egg on your feet.” Benjy smiled. “The males gather together to preserve body heat. Once the egg is hatched, the female returns and the male takes off for the sea and food.”
“That would be quite something to see,” Angelique said. “Hope you'll have a chance to sing to the emperors, Siri.”
People began asking questions as though nothing was wrong. My anxiety translated itself into a white heat of impatience.
 
Miching mallecho. Miching mallecho. The two words kept repeating themselves in my mind. I could not dislodge them.
We were going to anchor off Eddington Point overnight and go ashore in the morning, up into the strange, stony hills behind the station, where there were nesting albatrosses and more penguins, gentoos, chinstraps, and Adélies.
On the other side of the peninsula from the station, Todd told us, there would be a colony of Weddell seals.

Other books

God Is Dead by Ron Currie Jr.
WAS by Geoff Ryman
The Numbers Game by Frances Vidakovic
Dying to Forget by Trish Marie Dawson
Magnifico by Miles J. Unger
Elemental Shadows by Phaedra Weldon
The Red Hills by James Marvin
The James Deans by Reed Farrel Coleman