large. She had been out in the field from forest to tundra, she had learnt to use the snowcat in one lesson and could, in fact, strip it down. Dr Byrne felt she could trust Vanessa Way with her life, and that was quite something out here in the far north where Norway and Finland, Sweden and Russia all began to blur into the snow.
The male contingent at the research station were, in Dr Byrne’s less than medical opinion, like primates that had undergone one too many neurological experiments. Dr Byrne had been carrying them for too long and, once she got the measure of Vanessa, she realised that she didn’t have to carry that burden any longer. She could leave the men to their idleness and atavism and she and Vanessa could do the proper research.
To provide an example; Dr Finbar Hardy, a rather portly climatology professor from Dublin, didn’t go out to collect samples or measurements if he deemed it ‘too cold’. As a consequence, he had not left the building since November.
“Little Miss Way is just too bloody enthusiastic.” was Dr Tom Crowe’s chief complaint about the diligent and energetic young intern. “She’s just bloody infuriating.” he stirred his porridge. He was running low on oats and it was another two weeks before the supply plane dropped in.
“I call her Tigger.” Dr Finbar Hardy confessed, eating his powdered egg which he had prepared in a style that might be called scrambled.
“I’d tap that.” said Dr Craig Bale. As he lifted his spoon of Shreddies to his mouth a Sabatier knife sliced past his ear and landed with a thwonk in the surface of the table. It twanged back and forth a little, giving some idea of the velocity at which it had been thrown.
“If you so much as look at her too long Bale, that is the knife I will use to cut off your balls.” was Dr Angela Byrne’s farewell.
“Someone’s got a crush.” Bale muttered.
“I heard that.” shouted Angela from some way down the corridor.
Today the two colleagues were travelling up the frozen lake to take pillar samples from the permafrost in a narrow inlet that reached out from the lake, into the forest that edged it. The two had worked well together and amassed more data and samples in the two months since Vanessa’s arrival, than the male members of the research team had in almost a year. Dr Byrne meant to make up for all the lost and wasted time. Where before she had been tired out with the effort of being such a one-man band, Vanessa’s arrival and skill had given Dr Byrne renewed energy. She had determined, in fact, that she was going to offer Vanessa Way a position in her department at the university.
Today, if the pillar sampling went according to plan, they were also going to work through a grid they had mapped of the lakeside forest area and log all the flora and possible fauna that was out there. Already Vanessa had shown a wide ranging knowledge of lichen and they had begun a detailed record of the local forest nearest to the centre and the species present within.
As they skimmed across the frozen lake on the snowcats, the sky gunmetal above them, Angela thought that as soon as they all returned to civilisation she would like to introduce Vanessa to her youngest brother, Mottram.
They had been working on a section of the lake several miles to the east and their track along the shoreline now led them into a small inlet that poked its icy finger deeper into the forest so that the trees formed a dense horseshoe around the narrow point of frozen lake. They had grid marked the area into square metre boxes on their maps.
“If you work your way down the first row of grids we’ve marked on this eastern side and I will work down the west and we can meet up in three hours?” Dr Byrne suggested. Vanessa nodded agreement and, unloading their kitbags, they left the snowcats at the edge of the inlet and walked inward. It was a satisfying walk of less than half a mile, the trees closing in on three sides, spiking the air
The male contingent at the research station were, in Dr Byrne’s less than medical opinion, like primates that had undergone one too many neurological experiments. Dr Byrne had been carrying them for too long and, once she got the measure of Vanessa, she realised that she didn’t have to carry that burden any longer. She could leave the men to their idleness and atavism and she and Vanessa could do the proper research.
To provide an example; Dr Finbar Hardy, a rather portly climatology professor from Dublin, didn’t go out to collect samples or measurements if he deemed it ‘too cold’. As a consequence, he had not left the building since November.
“Little Miss Way is just too bloody enthusiastic.” was Dr Tom Crowe’s chief complaint about the diligent and energetic young intern. “She’s just bloody infuriating.” he stirred his porridge. He was running low on oats and it was another two weeks before the supply plane dropped in.
“I call her Tigger.” Dr Finbar Hardy confessed, eating his powdered egg which he had prepared in a style that might be called scrambled.
“I’d tap that.” said Dr Craig Bale. As he lifted his spoon of Shreddies to his mouth a Sabatier knife sliced past his ear and landed with a thwonk in the surface of the table. It twanged back and forth a little, giving some idea of the velocity at which it had been thrown.
“If you so much as look at her too long Bale, that is the knife I will use to cut off your balls.” was Dr Angela Byrne’s farewell.
“Someone’s got a crush.” Bale muttered.
“I heard that.” shouted Angela from some way down the corridor.
Today the two colleagues were travelling up the frozen lake to take pillar samples from the permafrost in a narrow inlet that reached out from the lake, into the forest that edged it. The two had worked well together and amassed more data and samples in the two months since Vanessa’s arrival, than the male members of the research team had in almost a year. Dr Byrne meant to make up for all the lost and wasted time. Where before she had been tired out with the effort of being such a one-man band, Vanessa’s arrival and skill had given Dr Byrne renewed energy. She had determined, in fact, that she was going to offer Vanessa Way a position in her department at the university.
Today, if the pillar sampling went according to plan, they were also going to work through a grid they had mapped of the lakeside forest area and log all the flora and possible fauna that was out there. Already Vanessa had shown a wide ranging knowledge of lichen and they had begun a detailed record of the local forest nearest to the centre and the species present within.
As they skimmed across the frozen lake on the snowcats, the sky gunmetal above them, Angela thought that as soon as they all returned to civilisation she would like to introduce Vanessa to her youngest brother, Mottram.
They had been working on a section of the lake several miles to the east and their track along the shoreline now led them into a small inlet that poked its icy finger deeper into the forest so that the trees formed a dense horseshoe around the narrow point of frozen lake. They had grid marked the area into square metre boxes on their maps.
“If you work your way down the first row of grids we’ve marked on this eastern side and I will work down the west and we can meet up in three hours?” Dr Byrne suggested. Vanessa nodded agreement and, unloading their kitbags, they left the snowcats at the edge of the inlet and walked inward. It was a satisfying walk of less than half a mile, the trees closing in on three sides, spiking the air
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