Clive Cussler: White Death

"Well, Herr Lutz, we have successfully completed the first leg of our historic journey." Braun had an elegant, anachronistic way of speaking. "We are maintaining our goal of one hundred twenty kilo- meters per hour. Even with a slight headwind, fuel consumption is exactly as calculated. My compliments, Herr Professor."

Herman Lutz looked like the bartender in a Munich beer cellar, but he was one of the most highly skilled aeronautical engineers in Europe. After his retirement, Braun had written a book suggesting airship service across the pole to North America. At a lecture pro- moting his book, he'd met Lutz, who was trying to raise money to fund a polar airship venture. The men were drawn to each other by their firm belief that airships could promote international cooperation.

Lutz's blue eyes danced with excitement. "My congratulations to you, Captain Braun. Together we will advance the greater glory of world peace."

"I'm sure you mean the greater glory ofGermany" sneered Ger- hardt Heinz, a short, slight man who had been standing behind the others, close enough to hear every word. With great ceremony, he lit up a cigarette.

In a steel-tipped voice, Braun said, "Herr Heinz, have you for- gotten that above our heads are thousands of cubic feet of highly flammable hydrogen? Smoking is permitted only in the section so designated in the crew's quarters."

Heinz mumbled an answer and snuffed out the cigarette with his fingers. Attempting to gain the edge, he drew himself up like a preen- ins rooster. Heinz had shaved his head to the skin and affected a pince-nez for his nearsighted eyes. The pale-white head was perched on narrow shoulders. While the effect was supposed to be intimi- dating, it was more grotesque.

Lutz thought that, with his tight black leather overcoat, Heinz looked like a maggot emerging from its pupa, but he wisely kept this thought to himself. Having Heinz on board was the price he and Braun had had to pay to get the airship into the air. That and the aircraft's name: Nieztsche, after the German philosopher. Germany was struggling to get out from under the financial and psychologi- cal yoke imposed by the Treaty of Versailles. When Lutz had pro- posed an airship voyage to the North Pole, the public had been eager to contribute funds, but the project had stagnated.

A group of industrialists quietly approached Lutz with a new proposition. With military backing, they would fund an airship to make a secret trip to the North Pole. If the mission succeeded, it would be made public, and the Allies would be presented with a fait accompli that displayed the superiority of German air technology. Failure would be kept a secret to avoid a black mark. The airship was built under cover, Lutz patterning it on the huge airship Gmf Zep- pelin. As part of the deal, he agreed to take Heinz along on the ex- pedition to represent the interests of the industrialists.

"Captain, would you enlighten us as to our progress?" Lutz said.

Braun stepped over to a chart table. "Here is our position. We will follow the course taken by the Norge and the Italia to the Spitsber- gen Islands. From there we make the dash to the pole. I expect the last leg to take about fifteen hours, depending on weather."

"I hope we have better luck than the Italians," Heinz said, un- necessarily reminding the others of previous airship attempts to reach the pole. In 1926, the Norwegian explorer Amundsen and an Italian engineer named Umberto Nobile had successfully reached and cir- cled the pole in an Italian dirigible named the Norge. However, No- bile's second expedition in the sister ship known as the Italia was supposed to have landed at the pole, but it had crashed. Amundsen had been lost in a rescue attempt. Nobile and some of his men were finally rescued.

"It is not a question of luck," said Lutz. "This airship's design built on the mistakes of others, precisely with this mission in mind. It is stronger and better able to handle rough weather. It has redun- dant communications systems. The use of Blaugas will allow for greater control because we won't have to vent hydrogen as ballast. We have defrosting ability in our controls. Its machinery is made to op- erate at subfreezing Arctic temperatures. It is the fastest airship ever built. We have a network of planes and ships in place that will re- spond immediately if we run into any problems. Our meteorologi- cal capacity is second to none."

"I have the utmost confidence in you and the ship," Heinz said with an unctuous smile, as his natural inclination to toady up to oth- ers came to the fore.

"Good. I suggest we all get some rest before we reach Spitsbergen. We will refuel there, and proceed to the pole."

The trip to Spitsbergen was uneventful. Contacted by radio, the refueling and resupply crew was ready, and the airship was on its way within hours, heading north, past the Franz Josef archipelago.

The dull gray sea below was speckled with pieces of floating ice. The chunks eventually graduated to large irregular pancakes that joined to form ice broken here and there by dark black veins of open water. Near the pole, the ice became a vast, unbroken expanse. Al- though the bluish-white surface looked flat from a thousand feet in the air, land explorers had learned the hard way that it was criss- crossed by ridges and hummocks.

"Good news," Braun announced cheerfully. "We are at eighty- five degrees north. We will make the pole soon. The weather condi- tions are ideal. No wind. Clear skies."

The anticipation grew, and even those who were off-duty crowded into the control cabin and peered out the big windows as if they hoped to see a tall striped shaft marking the spot at 90 degrees north.

One observer called out, "Captain, I think I see something on the ice.

The captain peered through his binoculars at where the crewman was pointing.

"Most interesting." He handed the binoculars to Lutz.

"It's a boat," Lutz said after a moment. Braun nodded in agreement and directed the helmsman to change course.

"What are you doing?" Heinz said.

Braun handed him the binoculars. "Look," he said, without elab- oration.

Heinz fumbled with his pince-nez and squinted through the glasses. "I see nothing," he said flatly.

Braun wasn't surprised at the answer. The man was as blind as a bat. "Nevertheless, there is a boat on the ice."

What would a boat be doing here?" Heinz said, eyes blinking rap- idly. "I've heard of no other expeditions to the pole. I order you to re- turn to our course."

On what grounds, Herr Heinz?" the captain asked, elevating his chin even more. It was apparent from the coldness of his voice that he didn't care what the reply would be.

Our mission is to go to the North Pole," Heinz said.

Captain Braun glared at Heinz as if he was about to kick the lit- tle man out the door and watch his body fall onto the pack ice.

Lutz recognized the dangerous mood the captain was in and in- tervened. "Herr Heinz, you are right, my friend. But I believe our charge was also to investigate any matter that may be of aid to us or the next expedition."

Braun added, "In addition, we are duty-bound, no less than any ship that sails the sea, to help those who may be in distress."

"If they see us, they will radio someone and jeopardize our mis- sion," Heinz said, trying another tack.

"They would have to be blind and deaf not to have seen or heard us," said Braun. "And if they report our presence, so what? Our ship has no markings except for the name."

Seeing he was defeated, Heinz slowly lit up a cigarette and con- spicuously blew smoke in the air, daring the captain to stop him.

The captain ignored the defiant gesture and gave the order to de- scend. The helmsman adjusted the controls, and the giant airship began its long, sloping glide down to the pack ice.