Alex Archer - Polar Quest

Trevor was as good as his word and met her at the bottom of the stairs by the front door. “Got everything you need?”

Annja nodded. “I think so. But honestly there’s not much to bring. Just my laptop in my bag and a few articles of clothing and toiletries. Beyond that, what’s the use?”

“You left the bathing suit at home, in other words.”

“Exactly.”

Trevor smiled and held up a small resealable bag. “Here, take this with you.”

“What’s this?”

“Some of my coffee. You seemed to like it an awful lot, and I can’t imagine where you’re going there’s anything nearly as good as this. So, please, take the bag of it. I insist.”

“Thanks, Trevor, that’s awfully nice of you.”

“Just remember me when that coffee’s the only thing keeping you from freezing your ass off out in the woolly cold.”

Annja smiled. “I will.”

From outside, she thought she could hear an engine somewhere off in the distance.

Trevor seemed to hear it, too. “Sounds like your ride,” he said.

“Guess so.”

“You be careful out there, Annja. Okay?”

She looked at him. “Why so concerned?”

Trevor shook his head. “You seem like a smart woman. I don’t like seeing good people get into things over their heads, you know?”

“Okay.”

“All I’m saying is be careful. I’ve heard what happened out there—the environmental spill and all. I just hope it’s not all that bad. Spoiling the natural beauty of this place would be a great shame. And I’d hate for you to get mixed up in any of that crap.”

Annja squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

“All right, then.”

The engine noise grew louder. Annja turned for her parka.

“Let me help you with that,” Trevor said.

“Thanks.” Annja slid into the parka and then zipped up the front. Trevor eyed her. “Ribs still feeling okay?”

“Pretty good, actually, yeah.”

“Okay then, Miss Creed, I hereby pronounce you ready for Antarctic exploration. Godspeed to you.”

Annja smiled and pulled her hood up. The engine noise had diminished to an idle right outside the door.

Annja stepped outside and felt the Antarctic morning greet her with a solid one-two punch in the blast of frigid air. She hustled over to the Sno-Cat and heaved her bag up into the cab.

She climbed up on the track and slid inside, pulling the door shut tight behind her.

“Good morning,” Dave said. “How are you feeling?”

Annja smiled. “Oh, let me tell you about that.”

Dave slid the Sno-Cat into gear. Annja looked out the window at Trevor, who still stood silhouetted in the doorway.

Just as she was about to wave goodbye, he closed the door.

“Someone attacked you?”

Annja nodded. “That’s right. It happened right after I left the bar. As soon as I turned onto Main Street.”

Dave shook his head. “Sometimes, I tell you, this place seems less and less like the Antarctica I fell in love with and more like Dodge City.”

Annja shrugged. “Well, whoever it was, they definitely wanted me out of the way. And they did it in such a way that it would have looked like an accident. A strange one, but an accident nonetheless.”

Dave steered the Sno-Cat farther out of McMurdo. “You talk to anyone about it?”

“Uh, yeah. I needed medical attention for my ribs and then the marshal came to see me. And he was a bit peeved that I hadn’t had my in-briefing with him as of yet. Apparently, someone neglected to tell me it was standard procedure for all new arrivals.”

Dave cleared his throat. “Yeah, sorry about that. Zach told me he wanted you brought into McMurdo as quickly as possible. Plus, it was suppertime. I didn’t see much point in bothering Dunning about it.”

Annja watched the dark sky lighten just a little. “Any other procedures or protocols I need to know about?”

“Nope. I think that’s it.”

Annja nodded. “Good.”

“So who do you think it was? I mean, you weren’t exactly in town all that long. Certainly not long enough to make any enemies—unless, of course, you count those two guys at the bar.”

“I’m counting them,” Annja said.

“Yeah, but you really think they’d do something like that? I mean, it just seems a bit extreme for a couple of lug nuts like them. I can’t see them wanting to kill you just because you had some words.”

Annja took a breath and didn’t feel much pain in her side. “Dave, if there’s one thing I’ve learned in my various travels, it’s that you can never overestimate how low someone might be willing to sink.”

“I suppose,” Dave said. “Just makes me kind of sad, that’s all. I don’t want to think about crime infecting my home here.” He flipped on the wipers to whisk away the snowflakes that had started falling. “Guess it just bums me out.”

“Well, I was bummed out, too, but for obvious reasons—I was lying in the middle of the street with a Sno-Cat bearing down on me.”

“Death by Sno-Cat,” Dave said. “That’s a new one. Especially considering how slow these things trundle along. Not exactly a high-speed rundown.”

Annja looked out of the window. “We really have a long way to go, huh?”

“It’s a good stretch, yeah. But we’ll be all right. We’ve got plenty of provisions and equipment with us.”

“But we won’t get there tonight?” she asked.

“It’s impossible to say. It all depends on the weather. As long as we arrive by late tomorrow Zach will be happy.”

“Where is he, by the way?”

Dave pointed over his shoulder. “In the cat behind us. He joined us as we left Mac Town. He’s got the equipment so we deemed it best that we take two cats instead of just trying to burden one of them. This way, if we run into trouble—one of them breaks down or something—we can hitch a ride on the other.”

“Makes sense,” Annja agreed.

“Plus, we can always radio for help. It might not be quick in getting to us, but at least they’ll know what’s going on.”

Ahead of them, through the window, Annja could see very little in the darkness. The sky seemed to melt into the landscape, leading her to wonder how Dave would know how to reach their objective.

“I don’t suppose there are any gas stations out here, huh?” she said.

Dave laughed. “Not quite. If you have to take a pit stop, I’d suggest you get used to using the jerrican behind your seat. It’s a lot more comfortable than taking a powder outside. The conditions aren’t exactly merciful to those who obey nature’s call.”

“How do you know when we get there?” Annja asked.

Dave patted the dashboard. “Global positioning system. We had them installed in all the cats a few years back. The things are a definite lifesaver. For years we had to go out with maps and take our chances. But now we know where everyone is right down to a yard or so.”

“Anyone ever been lost since you got GPS?”

“Nope.”

Annja nodded. The landscape looked incredibly foreboding. She could see small hills and peaks and long, irregular lines of ice sheets that jutted out of the ground. Snow seemed to fly at them from all sorts of odd angles.

“I can’t imagine getting lost in this stuff,” she said.

“Yeah, your chances of survival aren’t great if you do. But people have done it before. And then when you think back to those early explorers, well, they didn’t have much in terms of fancy gear with them. Just a willingness to go the extra mile and stake a claim for humanity in this frozen wasteland.”

Annja smiled. “That was almost poetic.”

Dave looked at her. “Don’t let that get out. It’ll ruin my reputation as a complete loon for staying down here as long as I have.”