and then shaking his head, pointed to the barrels of fuel.
‘Yeah, I got it,’ Luca mouthed, nodding his head.
The engines’ roar intensified, each increment of power sending vibrations through the back of Luca’s seat. The pilots were holding the plane with the brakes, wringing out every possible advantage for take-off. With a lurch, they surged forward along the runway, rolling and rolling, but barely seeming to go any faster. Just as it seemed they would plough off the end of Cape Town’s three-kilometre runway, the nose pitched up and the last of the engines’ power dragged the plane into the sky.
Once airborne, Luca pulled out the files Bates had given him on each of the British scientists he was to guide across to the drill site. There were three of them, ranging from mid-thirties to early-fifties, and none of them had a shred of climbing experience. The tractors would only be able to get them so far, then they would have to navigate the mountain range to get to the lake itself. Luca shut his eyes, already feeling a twinge in his lower back. That was always the thing about bloody scientists – they never travelled light.
Reaching for his kit bag, he pulled on his fleece layers and smeared a thick wadge of suntan cream over the bridge of his nose and cheeks. Sewn into the inside lining of his fleece jacket, he could just make out the memory stick with its spyware software that Bates had given him. Letting his thumb rub over its edges, he thought back to the helicopter ride from the oil rig.
Bates had briefed him on the route he should take to get the scientists to the drill site and had been insistent they travel west over the mountain ridge, even plotting a GPS route for him to take. But the wide-frame satellite imagery had been too hazy to see the relief in detail and, now that he had hours to kill on the plane, he wondered how Bates had been so sure of the route. And why was he insistent that they should travel
west
? Surely it would be better for Luca to check the lie of the land for himself once he had actually landed in Antarctica.
But that’s the way it was with Bates. Luca could never tell whether he was holding something back or whether it was just his nature. Half-truths were his stock in trade after all. Perhaps even Bates could barely tell the difference any more.
Then again, what did it matter? Luca would load up the software on the main computer and get the scientists to the drill site. That was it. Anything more than that was none of his business.
He shut his eyes, letting the background hum of the plane wash over him. The noise and vibration were strangely soporific, while the heady fumes from the fuel barrels only intensified as the hours passed. He tried to keep himself awake, forcing his eyes open again and again, but already he knew it was hopeless. In that single moment, just as the blackness fanned out across his vision like a sunspot, he knew that he would think of Bear.
The image of her was never clear. It was more of an impression – the sensation of her next to him. He could feel her breath on his skin as she nuzzled into the crook of his neck, smell the faint scent of her long black hair. These moments were always so visceral, with Bear feeling so much a part of him that, for the first few seconds after waking up, he couldn’t tell whether he had been imagining it or not.
All he had done was leave her a message. A single voicemail informing her that he was off to Antarctica and that Kieran Bates was her point of contact if she needed to get in touch. Upon reflection, Luca didn’t really know why he had left the message in the first place, but it had seemed to him that
someone
needed to know where he was going. He had no brothers or sisters, and had barely spoken to his parents since his teenage years. On the rare occasions when life did bring them together, all that remained was an unspoken animosity coupled with a genuine confusion as to how such different people could
‘Yeah, I got it,’ Luca mouthed, nodding his head.
The engines’ roar intensified, each increment of power sending vibrations through the back of Luca’s seat. The pilots were holding the plane with the brakes, wringing out every possible advantage for take-off. With a lurch, they surged forward along the runway, rolling and rolling, but barely seeming to go any faster. Just as it seemed they would plough off the end of Cape Town’s three-kilometre runway, the nose pitched up and the last of the engines’ power dragged the plane into the sky.
Once airborne, Luca pulled out the files Bates had given him on each of the British scientists he was to guide across to the drill site. There were three of them, ranging from mid-thirties to early-fifties, and none of them had a shred of climbing experience. The tractors would only be able to get them so far, then they would have to navigate the mountain range to get to the lake itself. Luca shut his eyes, already feeling a twinge in his lower back. That was always the thing about bloody scientists – they never travelled light.
Reaching for his kit bag, he pulled on his fleece layers and smeared a thick wadge of suntan cream over the bridge of his nose and cheeks. Sewn into the inside lining of his fleece jacket, he could just make out the memory stick with its spyware software that Bates had given him. Letting his thumb rub over its edges, he thought back to the helicopter ride from the oil rig.
Bates had briefed him on the route he should take to get the scientists to the drill site and had been insistent they travel west over the mountain ridge, even plotting a GPS route for him to take. But the wide-frame satellite imagery had been too hazy to see the relief in detail and, now that he had hours to kill on the plane, he wondered how Bates had been so sure of the route. And why was he insistent that they should travel
west
? Surely it would be better for Luca to check the lie of the land for himself once he had actually landed in Antarctica.
But that’s the way it was with Bates. Luca could never tell whether he was holding something back or whether it was just his nature. Half-truths were his stock in trade after all. Perhaps even Bates could barely tell the difference any more.
Then again, what did it matter? Luca would load up the software on the main computer and get the scientists to the drill site. That was it. Anything more than that was none of his business.
He shut his eyes, letting the background hum of the plane wash over him. The noise and vibration were strangely soporific, while the heady fumes from the fuel barrels only intensified as the hours passed. He tried to keep himself awake, forcing his eyes open again and again, but already he knew it was hopeless. In that single moment, just as the blackness fanned out across his vision like a sunspot, he knew that he would think of Bear.
The image of her was never clear. It was more of an impression – the sensation of her next to him. He could feel her breath on his skin as she nuzzled into the crook of his neck, smell the faint scent of her long black hair. These moments were always so visceral, with Bear feeling so much a part of him that, for the first few seconds after waking up, he couldn’t tell whether he had been imagining it or not.
All he had done was leave her a message. A single voicemail informing her that he was off to Antarctica and that Kieran Bates was her point of contact if she needed to get in touch. Upon reflection, Luca didn’t really know why he had left the message in the first place, but it had seemed to him that
someone
needed to know where he was going. He had no brothers or sisters, and had barely spoken to his parents since his teenage years. On the rare occasions when life did bring them together, all that remained was an unspoken animosity coupled with a genuine confusion as to how such different people could
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