“Well, his hand was cut,” Val said. “And he banged his head, I think. He seemed okay right after the accident, but later he lost it.”
“Yes, but look at his collarbone. See that bend? I think he must have broken this collarbone too.”
X glanced at Val; her eyes were round.
“He didn’t say anything about that,” she said. “I didn’t know.”
“He must not have been using ski poles?”
“Well, no, mostly he was. Other times he was letting them hang at his sides. I thought he was just tired. God damn it—why didn’t he say anything?”
Carlos shrugged. “Well, hopefully he’ll be okay. A broken collarbone isn’t so bad, and if he was doing okay for a while after he hit the ice, it couldn’t be that bad. We’ll see. Looks like he’s just sleeping now. We’ll try to give him some hot liquids as soon as we can.”
After that there was little they could do for the man, and Val and Carlos took charge of ransacking the hovercraft, to inventory what they had. X resisted the tendency to sink into client status with the rest of the group, and joined them in the search. He had only spent a few days at the station, but he remembered it well enough to go back out into the cold, on a quick search for anything that might have survived the blast and fire in the main complex.
No luck. The fire had been comprehensive. He returned gratefully to the protection of the hovercraft, blowing into his fists to reheat his hands. It was still nearly as cold inside as out, but shelter from the wind made all the difference, and the hovercraft’s cabin was warming a bit. Inside it Val’s clients were still sitting on the benches, eating and drinking without pause. Val and Carlos were fiddling with the hovercraft’s radio. “Misery Peak is right in the way,” Carlos was saying. “No way we get a good connection.”
“Misery Peak, Dismal Bluff,” Val said, reading a map. “The people who named this area sound like they were as bad off as us.”
“No, those were just the names of their dogs.”
“Ah.”
“Can’t radio waves bounce off the, the ionosphere?” X asked.
“Not down here. We’re at the end of the magnet, so to say. The radio waves just shoot right up the lines.”
“Uh huh.”
“But we might hit a repeater. Worth a try, that’s for sure. This is a lot more powerful radio than the one we tried before.”
The radio had a handset like a telephone’s, connected to the big console by a typical handset cord. Carlos picked up this handset and pushed the button on it that would allow him to transmit, and a piercing high buzz filled the air. Carlos let off on the button and the noise ceased; tried it again, and got the same result. “Shit. There’s something wrong with the radio.”
He pushed in the handset cord’s clips at both ends, banged the handset against the console, slapped the dashboard containing it. Still the earshattering buzz when he tried to transmit. “Ouch. I suppose the force of the explosion might have damaged something. Well, let’s see if it transmits anyway.” He pushed the button while covering the earpiece with his other hand, which muffled the high buzz somewhat, and said loudly into the transmitter, “Mac Coms, this is Roberts Station, Mac Coms, this is Roberts Station, do you read me, over?”
After a few seconds of loud static, they heard a faint voice under the noise, a sound which brought them all on point like bird dogs:
“Kkkkk Roberts Station this is Mac Coms kkkkkkkk very broken kkkkkkkkkkkk repeat, can you kkkkkkkkkkkk.”
“That’s Randi,” Val said. “Tell her that T-023 is here too.”
“Okay.” Carlos pushed the button again, and through the muffled whine shouted, “Mac Coms, we read you, this is Roberts Station and T-023, over!”
More static. Then: “Kkkkkk you say T-023 kkkkkkkkkkkkk thought you said you were Roberts Station, over.”
Carlos shouted “Yes, Mac Coms, this is Roberts Station, and we have T-023 with us! We need a medevac for T-023 at Roberts Station, over!”
“Kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk do you need a medevac, over?”
Carlos spared time to roll his eyes. He was in a better mood, X saw, now that they had established contact; and so was Val.
“Yes, Mac Coms, we need a medevac. Repeat, we need a medevac, over!”
“Kkkkkkk most of Antarctica needs a medevac, Roberts!” Even through the static X could tell Randi too was glad to have made contact. “What’s the nature of your problem? Where’s Val? What’s T-023 doing at Roberts anyway? Over.”
Carlos shouted, “T-023 walked here, Mac Coms. Roberts Station is wrecked, it burned down. Same with Mohn Basin Camp. They were both bombed. We have nine people, one suffering hypothermia, and very little food. Can you help us, over?”
“Kkkkkkkkkk lost helo and we are arranging evacuation. Many camps have been damaged, repeat kkkkkkkkkkkkkkk SAR is booked and we do not have full helo or coms kkkkkkkkkkkkk get down to Shackleton on your own, over?”
“Randi, repeat, we have a hypothermia case here, over.”
“Well warm him up for Christ’s sake! Over.”
“He’s injured as well, Randi. When can you get us a medevac, over?”
“Kkkkkkk yourself to Shackleton Camp, over?”
Carlos and Val stared at each other. Finally Val took the handset and pressed the button, and through the howl said loudly, “Randi, this is Val! I don’t think we can make our way on foot to Shackleton Camp! We’ve already had to walk from the Axel Heiberg, and people are walked out. We need a lift, over!”
“Didn’t read that, Val. You are very broken up, can you kkkkkkkkkk.”
Val clicked in, shouted, “We need a lift out! Over!”
“Lots of people feel left out right now, Val, but the SAR is overwhelmed! We’ve had twenty-two calls for help, and everyone else is calling in trying to find out what happened to coms kkkkkkkkkkkkk six or seven parties. We’re only just now back on the air, and still waiting for fuel resupply! We’re glad to hear from you, but if you can’t get to Shackleton Camp you’re going to have to sit tight for a few days, maybe more, over!”
Val and Carlos looked at each other. Val shouted, “Okay, Randi, we read you! What happened to McMurdo, over?”
“Kkkkkkk trouble reading you, Val, and I’ve got a call in from kkkkkk schedule next coms for nineteen hundred hours, do you kkkkkkkkk.”
“We read you, Randi, sked coms nineteen hundred, we’ll talk to you then, over!”
“Nineteen hundred, over and out.”
Carlos turned off the radio, took a deep breath and let it out. “What a noise that thing makes!”