Hunt Beyond the Frozen Fire by Christa Faust, Gabriel Hunt Page A
Authors: Christa Faust, Gabriel Hunt
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Gabriel said, just to have something to say.
“Oh, we know Rue here,” Nils said. “We know her very well.”
Rue blew the Yeti a jaunty kiss and went to start unloading their gear.
So, tell me, Gabriel was suddenly tempted to ask, has she slept with everyone on the team? But he kept the thought to himself.
“Nils Engen worked with my father at the ComNet research station,” Velda said, leaning close but still shouting to be heard. “He’s been on the ice for fifteen years, ten of them at or near Pole. He’s agreed to be our guide.”
“Good,” Gabriel said, grabbing his pack and slinging it up on his shoulder. “Glad to have you, Nils.”
When they had all gathered their gear and bid Speedo their hollered good-byes, Nils led them past the edge of the dome to a battered Spryte snowcat that looked like a rusty orange shoe box on wide tank treads. The driver was a grim woman in a gray parka that Nils introduced as Skua. She didn’t speak a word for their entire journey.
The Spryte was turtle slow, had no real suspension of any kind and was both horrifically noisy and foul smelling, belching plumes of toxic exhaust that wafted back into the badly insulated cab. The tiny, slot like side windows quickly iced up, making them pretty much useless. The ice over which they traveled was scored with windblown ridges that bounced and rattled their frozen bones. Millie hit his head against the roof so many times he wondered aloud if he shouldn’t have worn a helmet.
Their first view of the research station out the front windshield made it look like a beer can lying discarded and half buried on the featureless ice of the vast Polar Plateau. The only other visible landmark was the distant hump of Pole Station to the east. No mountains, no glaciers, nothing for the eye to focus on but miles and miles of flat white below and flat blue above. The altitude made breathing feel like doing push-ups. The bone-dry wind that came whistling in was even more vicious, full of knives and the promise of frostbite, hypothermia and death. The vast emptiness made Gabriel feel small and fragile, and he thought even men like Nils and Millie must find it humbling.
“Velda!” a tiny, plump figure cried, appearing in the doorway of the beer can as the snowcat slowly ground to a halt. Any human features were buried under layersof down and goggles, but the voice sounded female. “It’s so good to see you!”
“Elaine,” Velda said, stepping forward to embrace the shorter woman. “How are you managing out here?”
“We’re doing okay,” she replied. “We were supposed to get a new fish in to winter-over, but I guess he failed his pych eval, so it’ll just be the three of us this year.” She paused, then gripped Velda’s gloved hand. “I’m so sorry about your father.”
There was a long windy minute of awkward silence. The cold was rapidly becoming excruciating, a sensation more of pain than of temperature.
“You idiots are welcome to say out here sunbathing,” Skua said, piping up for the first time. “I’m going in.”
“Come on,” Elaine said. “Let’s get you kids warmed up.”
Chapter 8
The inside of the tiny research station looked and smelled like a college dorm. In the main living area there was a random scattering of cheap, questionable furniture. Cartoons and sketches and photos torn from magazines were thumbtacked to the walls. A green lava lamp stood next to a big-screen TV that was hooked up to an Xbox. A heavy funk of armpits and fried food hung in the air alongside a lingering hint of marijuana smoke. Skua had swiftly retired to unseen private quarters, but with the six of them standing there, the narrow room felt like a rush-hour subway car. Taking their parkas off was a major challenge in the cramped space, all awkward elbows and bumping into one another. Millie could barely move without sticking his elbow in someone’s face or cracking his head against one of the metal spines supporting the roof.
“Oh, we know Rue here,” Nils said. “We know her very well.”
Rue blew the Yeti a jaunty kiss and went to start unloading their gear.
So, tell me, Gabriel was suddenly tempted to ask, has she slept with everyone on the team? But he kept the thought to himself.
“Nils Engen worked with my father at the ComNet research station,” Velda said, leaning close but still shouting to be heard. “He’s been on the ice for fifteen years, ten of them at or near Pole. He’s agreed to be our guide.”
“Good,” Gabriel said, grabbing his pack and slinging it up on his shoulder. “Glad to have you, Nils.”
When they had all gathered their gear and bid Speedo their hollered good-byes, Nils led them past the edge of the dome to a battered Spryte snowcat that looked like a rusty orange shoe box on wide tank treads. The driver was a grim woman in a gray parka that Nils introduced as Skua. She didn’t speak a word for their entire journey.
The Spryte was turtle slow, had no real suspension of any kind and was both horrifically noisy and foul smelling, belching plumes of toxic exhaust that wafted back into the badly insulated cab. The tiny, slot like side windows quickly iced up, making them pretty much useless. The ice over which they traveled was scored with windblown ridges that bounced and rattled their frozen bones. Millie hit his head against the roof so many times he wondered aloud if he shouldn’t have worn a helmet.
Their first view of the research station out the front windshield made it look like a beer can lying discarded and half buried on the featureless ice of the vast Polar Plateau. The only other visible landmark was the distant hump of Pole Station to the east. No mountains, no glaciers, nothing for the eye to focus on but miles and miles of flat white below and flat blue above. The altitude made breathing feel like doing push-ups. The bone-dry wind that came whistling in was even more vicious, full of knives and the promise of frostbite, hypothermia and death. The vast emptiness made Gabriel feel small and fragile, and he thought even men like Nils and Millie must find it humbling.
“Velda!” a tiny, plump figure cried, appearing in the doorway of the beer can as the snowcat slowly ground to a halt. Any human features were buried under layersof down and goggles, but the voice sounded female. “It’s so good to see you!”
“Elaine,” Velda said, stepping forward to embrace the shorter woman. “How are you managing out here?”
“We’re doing okay,” she replied. “We were supposed to get a new fish in to winter-over, but I guess he failed his pych eval, so it’ll just be the three of us this year.” She paused, then gripped Velda’s gloved hand. “I’m so sorry about your father.”
There was a long windy minute of awkward silence. The cold was rapidly becoming excruciating, a sensation more of pain than of temperature.
“You idiots are welcome to say out here sunbathing,” Skua said, piping up for the first time. “I’m going in.”
“Come on,” Elaine said. “Let’s get you kids warmed up.”
Chapter 8
The inside of the tiny research station looked and smelled like a college dorm. In the main living area there was a random scattering of cheap, questionable furniture. Cartoons and sketches and photos torn from magazines were thumbtacked to the walls. A green lava lamp stood next to a big-screen TV that was hooked up to an Xbox. A heavy funk of armpits and fried food hung in the air alongside a lingering hint of marijuana smoke. Skua had swiftly retired to unseen private quarters, but with the six of them standing there, the narrow room felt like a rush-hour subway car. Taking their parkas off was a major challenge in the cramped space, all awkward elbows and bumping into one another. Millie could barely move without sticking his elbow in someone’s face or cracking his head against one of the metal spines supporting the roof.
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