Southtrap

Where was Botany Bay?

I noted as I cased the mass with my glasses that the shadow cast by the peak against the massive upright section moved. The berg was swinging. That meant the wind was slowly revolving it.

Then the berg swung further in the Quest's direction and everything became clear.

Between the left-hand peak and the right-hand buttress was an enormous archway through the solid ice. Open water lay beyond.

I realized immediately where Botany Bay was. She was inside! In an iceport, a calm sheltered embayment with ice of the berg all round and a gateway to it via the majestic archway.

That is what Kearnay had meant.

I tried Persson's intercom. 'What does the windjammer say?'

'Her batteries must be dead,' he replied.

'Tell her…' I began but Wegger snatched the instrument from my hand.

'Tell Botany Bay nothing — understand?' he snapped.

'Fine,' I said. 'Run the bloody show yourself, Wegger, if that's the way you want it.'

He responded by shouting to the rescue team sheltering in the lee of the Quest's bulwarks.

'Clear away the motor-launch!'

A single rocket — green this time — soared from somewhere inside the iceport.

'She's inside — but where, I don't know,' I pointed out to Wegger.

'I'm going to look — and you're coming, too. Ullmann, you also. Call Bravold to replace you.'

Ullmann went, passing his Scorpion to Wegger, who stood against the bridge windows and regarded us.

'See here,' he told the others on the bridge, 'don't get any ideas of seizing the ship while I'm away. Bravold is a very impatient man. There's nothing he likes to hear more than the sound of automatic fire. His own.'

I wondered afresh at Wegger's concern for the windjammer. There was a great deal in his mind that I didn't understand.

'Motor-launch cleared away, sir!' came a shout from the seamen in their orange lifejackets.

I focused my glasses again on the arch. Stretched across the entrance like the arm of a breakwater was a low line of what looked like small pieces of ice coagulated together. If that line were as unnegotiable as it appeared from a distance, nothing could save Botany Bay. She was completely boxed in.

Bravold came on to the bridge. He was as thin as Ullmann was broad but his face appeared more intelligent. He must have been asleep somewhere, but his eyes were alert. Like Ullmann's, they had an awful blankness of emotion. In addition to his machine-pistol his belt was strung with five grenades.

'Warn the passengers over the public address system to keep off the decks,' Wegger told him. 'Shoot anyone who disobeys — right?'

Bravold's eyes travelled round the bridge. McKinley dropped his glance. There was a line of sweat on his upper lip.

'Right.'

'Shotton, Ullmann — come!'

The three of us made our way to the lifeboat deck. The motor-launch, a 25-footer with auxiliary sail and decked-in bow and stern, hung in the falls.

'In,' Wegger ordered me.

'How many men are coming?' I asked.

'None. Three's a crowd. Let go of those falls!'

The men seemed only too eager to get away from the gun muzzles. The launch reached the water.

'Fend her off!' said Wegger. 'You're not the captain any more, Shotton. Get going!'

I fired the engine and took the tiller. The mast, unshipped, lay the length of the craft. My eye went to its step in the bottom of the boat, which was where I had hidden Linn's golden coin. It looked as if we would need a lot more than Viking's luck to beat Wegger.

We headed for the iceberg over roller-coaster waves, weaving and dodging between the smaller ice clutter. My approach was roundabout in order to avoid the spit across the entranceway. When we came closer, I could see that it did not extend right across: there was open water both under and beyond the arch.

The whole majesty of Antarctica was in its frozen architecture. The arch was fronted by a double portico on the left side towering almost as high as the main structure itself. There was a deep cleft between it and the great main solid buttress on the right. The passage led through and under a soaring bridge which ended in a triangular roof like a huge hall. Calm open water was beyond.

What lay inside there was anyone's guess.

Wegger was for'ard gazing at the stupendous natural wonder. Ullmann didn't take his eyes or the Scorpion off me.

I called to Wegger, 'What now?'

'Take her in! I'll con her.'

I throttled back slightly as we passed under the ice-bridge. The wind cut off and we were in a haven. And a death-trap.

Why, I saw.

The sight ahead looked like an.old print from the days of sail.

Threequarters of a kilometre away a windjammer with bluff bows and bulging sides lay canted over against an ice-cliff across ice-blue water. She looked like a bygone East Indiaman. She was full-rigged, and her sails were harbour-stowed. Her stern was half towards us. It was a great square-cut affair with big windows and quarter galleries. Gingerbread work flowered gold against dark blue, the colours bright despite the grey light. She must have been about 45 metres long with a beam of nine. The steeve or angle of her bowsprit was very sharp against the ice and I could see heavy chain guys holding it in position. The bowsprit was not fashioned to form a harmonious whole with the bow; there was a tiny platform under it, for'ard of which was a figurehead. Ice coated her footropes, sheets and stays.

Wegger swung round. 'She's afloat! She's afloat! d'you hear!'

I throttled back to a crawl and indicated a solid shelf of ice which locked Botany Bay to the cliff.

'No. She's fast. She's trapped.'

'Get on over there!' he ordered. 'Get on! We'll move her out of here!'

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The sound of the launch's engine brought figures rushing on to Botany Bay's deck. They started to wave frantically.

I picked a cautious way through the soupy water and as we neared I saw that the windjammer was listed over in a tumble of small, broken blocks of ice. She lay on her starboard beam with warps out. The port anchor, the one facing open water, was cockbilled at the cathead like a last vain attempt to claw her way free of the icy fist which had closed round her.

Wegger said to Ullmann, 'Put that gun away — for the moment.' He shoved his own pistol into his pocket but kept his hand on it.

Two men broke away from the stranded vessel and came ploughing across the ice-blocks to the water's edge.

'Stand off at speaking distance,' Wegger warned me. 'No going close.'

The motor-launch reached the ice edge before the men. I held her off a couple of boats' lengths away — it was a natural jetty. I couldn't judge how thick the ice was; it groaned when we ranged close.

Small haloes of steam from their panting enveloped the two men's heads when they reached the water's edge.

'Ahoy!' yelled the taller. He was fair-haired, with a non-descript beard. He wore a shabby peaked cap. 'Ahoy! What the hell! Come close! Let me grab your hand!'

'Keep off!' Wegger growled at me.

'I'm Shotton,' I called back. 'You must be Kearnay. Glad to see you.'

He was grinning and gesticulating. 'Aye. This is my second string, Geoff Biggs. That was a great effort, Captain Shotton!' Then he repeated, 'Bring your boat in. It's safe enough. I should know.'

When I still did not approach, he looked puzzled and went on, 'Botany Bay isn't a yellowback case, Captain, come on in!'

I replied as evenly as I could, 'Looks as if you've got problems.'

'Problems — my bloody oath!' he exclaimed. 'I never thought I'd see another ship again — where is she, Captain?'