Hannah Ross - The Last Outpost - An Antarctic Dystopia

She placed the lamp on the floor and sat down, cross-legged. Scott settled down across her. Ki Tahan’s head was bowed, and the light of the lamp glistened upon her thick golden tresses. Following her example, he looked down and was silent. The quiet and emptiness around them were not unwelcoming. In the shifting light, he could almost see the Anai warriors painted on the cave walls awaken to life and move, brandishing their spears and bows. He could almost hear the distant echo of oars splashing in the water, and whispers in an unknown tongue.

After a while, Ki Tahan raised her head and got up. “Now look,” she told Scott, holding out her hand with the lamp and making the light fall on the words of writing in Anai. “This is story of the Anai people. I teach you, and soon you can read yourself.”

Scott was a diligent pupil, making out the symbols with infinite patience and repeating word after word what Ki Tahan said. The legend of the Anai coming from across the sea was long and colorful, and its beginning went thus:

“At the dawn of time, the First Anai lived in a land far across the sea, where days follow nights one after another. Brave men and women sailed out in a big boat, long and with wings as if it were a bird. They sailed for many days and nights, rushed forth by strong winds and currents they could not combat. Finally, they came to the shores of the Frozen Land, and they thought they would perish from the cold.

The Spirits had mercy on them, though, and the Hand of the Spirit opened the entrance to a valley, lush and warm, where the Anai could live and thrive. The Anai gave gifts to the spirits and made the valley their home…”

This piece of written history was long and fascinating, and once Scott, with the help of Ki Tahan, was able to decipher it, he felt a familiar but long-forgotten glow of having mastered something interesting and difficult. The written symbols of the Anai tongue, just as their spoken language, were no longer strangers. He had ventured into those waters, and he would conquer them in time.

He was no closer to uncovering the secret of the Anai, however. The only thing that struck him was the description of a land where “days follow nights one after another”. This appeared to be a real-life observation, hinting of a place much farther from the polar region. There were also some maps of constellations and star charts, which Scott observed with great fascination. He was no great expert on stars, but he recognized the constellations and their placement in the sky, and the changes visible in each separate map, and in the order of them all, hinted at a ship traveling from north to south. One map was similar to what the stars would look like at the region of the equator, and then, with mounting excitement, he saw a scheme of the constellations arranged in the same way he was familiar with in the northern hemisphere. His heart was pounding as he observed the maps. His inevitable conclusion was that the Anai had no way to know what the northern hemisphere sky looked like, unless they had come from up north themselves. This, however, did not tally with the fact that their language bore no trace of resemblance to any of the northern languages, spoken or extinct.

Ki Tahan stood next to him, observing the star charts as well. “This is drawing of stars the way we see them when it’s dark,” she said, pointing at one map. “But the other maps show stars arranged in other way. Was it this way many years ago, you think?”

“No,” Scott shook his head. “This is how the stars look in lands across the sea. As you go north, you see the sky from a different angle.” He was about to venture into explaining that the earth is a sphere, but thought that if he did, they might still be in this cave when the party from the bay returns.

Ki Tahan was listening with rapt attention. “Ri Omrek said something like this, said those were words of Anders. I did not believe. But looking at the drawings now, I understand.”

“There’s a lot more to study here,” Scott said, “but I’m afraid I’m getting too tired,” he stifled a yawn.

“Yes. Is late,” Ki Tahan admitted. “Me tired, too. Scott,” she paused, “you learn Anai letters fast. Your tongue has letters as well? To write stories?”

“Yes, we have an alphabet, and many fascinating books. Would you like me to teach you to read our letters?”

“I would like. And speak like you, too. I want speak well.”

“You speak very well.”

“Not like you,” she insisted. “I want speak better.”

“You’ll learn much faster than I’m learning the language of the Anai,” Scott assured her. “And…” he hesitated, struck by a sudden idea. “Ki Tahan, I want to ask you something.”

“Tahan is enough,” she said with a smile. “Ki is name of my… my kin, my part of Anai people. In truth, kin of Daygan. I was Ri Tahan before I am Daygan’s woman, same as Ri Omrek.”

“I see,” Scott nodded. “I want to ask you something… Tahan, had Anders ever brought a man with him to the valley? A little shorter than I, with dark hair?”

“Anders bring men with him from time to time. And some men come without him. They not stay long, not come often. But there is one… you mean thin man? Does not smile much? Has these… strange black shapes over eyes?”

“Eyeglasses. Yes. His name is Victor.”

“Victor,” Tahan repeated. “Yes, I know this man. Not good man,” she added, and her face was uncharacteristically somber.

“Yes?” Scott prompted. “What makes you say that?”

“He… not good to Anai. He not like Anders. Not kind. He think, he can take things without asking.”

“Did he steal from the village?” Scott asked in distaste.

Tahan shook her head. “No, just take… not hide. Not think to ask if he can. And he… not res… respect? Yes, respect. He not respect Anai women. Think he can touch them, when they not want.”

Scott felt a glow of anger mount up his neck and pound in his temples. “He what? He tried to force himself upon the Anai women?”

She nodded. “Yes. Our men, they are angry. Very angry. No one forces Anai woman, not her husband, not ever. They want kill that man, Victor,” she shuddered. “But Anders, he ask them let him go. He say, he promise Victor never come to Anai Valley again. And he speak true. We never see that man since.”

Scott felt the anger harden into a solid knot in his stomach, as the face of Victor Nash appeared in his mind’s eye, cold and arrogant. This conversation with Ki Tahan made him understand more than all the poking and probing around McMurdo, and all the reading between lines of official reports he had surreptitiously done over the past few weeks.

They left the cave and made their way back to the village. The warmth and coziness of the stone house were a welcome change after the gusts of wind in the valley, and the air with interlaying cold and warm currents. Tahan settled down under the furs and curled up next to her son, who murmured something in his sleep, while Scott proceeded behind the partition where Omrek slept. As promised, a bed of sealskins and furs was made for him on the floor. It was like a thick, cozy sleeping bag made of natural materials, and as soon as Scott crawled in, he felt his limbs relax and his whole body grow pleasantly warm, but he couldn’t sleep. He kept thinking about Victor Nash.

What he marveled at was not that Nash lost his clearance to visit the Anai valley, but that he was allowed to stay on at McMurdo at all. How did they let him keep his position? Sexual offenders were punished quickly and ruthlessly under the regulations of the Antarctic Program. If Nash were found guilty of sexual harassment at the McMurdo research station, he would have been sent packing in about five minutes flat, with references to keep him cringing in shame for the rest of his professional life. But here, it appeared, an attempted rape had been smoothed over. Because he assaulted women who do not officially exist, Scott thought with a fresh surge of anger. The government determination to hush up the existence of the Anai led to one injustice after another. This is wrong. It has to be wrong, and it cannot go on. But how do I change this? ‘We cannot exceed our authority, Buck,’ he seemed to hear Lindholm’s voice in his ear.