The heavy ionization of the spectacular display of lights were probably wreaking havoc on the transmission of radio waves. He lifted the binoculars back to his eyes, and traced a route back from the Pegasus station. When he reached the impassable chasm that split the Antarctic continent and the iceberg, Sam stopped. He studied the chasm. The iceberg ran east to west. From the east, where he’d recently searched, the gap was too large to cross and continued all the way to the ocean. From the west the chasm narrowed until it was no more than a foot or so wide at places.
Using the binoculars, Sam followed it backwards from the western end to the base of the hill he was standing upon. He stopped when he found a single portion of the iceberg where the distance within the gap had narrowed to the point where the top had covered over with ice. There, I can get across there. It would be dangerous, but he should be able to ride the snow mobile over it.
Sam turned around, preparing for the slow journey to the bottom of the hill. Something reflective caught his attention in the distance. He pulled up the binoculars to his eyes and searched the horizon. The Maria Helena rested at anchor, alone in the bay — then behind her, maybe another few miles out, he saw a second vessel. It was covered in yellow paint; probably a cruise ship.
He put the binoculars away. I wonder if they too have responded to the call for help. Sam dismissed the casual thought from his mind as a sudden burst of wind gusted. It was so powerful it nearly knocked him off the hill.
Sam looked at the snow mobile at the base of the hill. It was more than two hundred feet away. Behind it, a localized storm rapidly whipped up the previously clear sky into something dark and evil.
Sam stared at the approaching monstrous wall of ice and snow. Where the hell did you come from!
He started to run.
Chapter Five
Sam chided himself for not taking more caution. A snow storm in the Antarctic winter would kill quickly. The storm approached like a violent wave of destruction. He moved rapidly down the steep slope.
At first he tentatively chose each large step down. Then as the storm closed in on him, he started to climb down at speed. Careful at first, Sam quickly took greater risks with each stride, until he was running down the steep hill.
About two thirds of the way to the bottom, he lost his footing. It was a momentary mistake, which might end up taking his life. Sam’s left leg slid on the ice and to compensate he threw the bulk of his weight on his right. It was too much. He toppled over and started to roll down the steep slope.
He gripped his snow pick in his right hand and tried to jam it into the snow — hard. The pick caught, but the momentum was too much and the handle ripped out from his hand. He started to slide like an uncontrolled toboggan, gaining momentum fast.
At the bottom of the hill he slid to a stop in deep snow.
Sam wiped the snow off his goggles. He waited for his eyes to adjust for a moment and then realized the storm was obscuring what little light had remained for winter. He stood up. Panicked, he looked for his snow mobile.
His vision was reduced to five feet. Sam couldn’t see the snow mobile anywhere. He wore snow clothes designed for the sub-arctic weather. They were rated to conditions as low as minus forty degrees Fahrenheit. He zipped the jacket up to his eyes. He wore a ski mask underneath, but with the increased force of the wind, it did little to protect his face from the stinging shards of ice.
He needed protection if he was going to survive the next few minutes, let alone the hour it would take for the storm to pass. Sam crouched down in the thick snow. Using only his gloved hands, he tried to dig a hole into the snow. His cave struck solid ice about two feet down. It wasn’t perfect, but it might still save his life.
He huddled down with his face at the lowest point in the tiny snow cave until he reached something that resembled comfort. If the storm passed quickly, he would live. If not, he would freeze to death. It was that simple. Protecting himself as best he could Sam hoped like hell the storm would pass as quick as it began.
The previous gray of the winter’s day turned to a constant darkness. Sam’s mind drifted in and out of consciousness. Remembering some of the good times and the bad, and wondering how it all ended here — no more than five miles from the warmth and safety of the Maria Helena.
The storm raged for an unknown time. It could have been hours or days. Huddled up as low to the ground as he could manage, Sam had no way of telling the time.
He wiped off the snow built up along his goggles. The storm wailed ferociously. Somewhere in the darkness, his eyes caught sight of something. Sam couldn’t quite tell what it was. He lost it a split second later. Then he saw the flicker of a strange glowing orange light. It was most likely a fanciful figment of his imagination.
And it was getting closer to him.
Sam’s heart pounded. He knew he was beginning to feel the symptoms of profound hypothermia. Despite his protective clothing the wind-chill ripped through and tore at his bones.
“No, go away!” Sam wasn’t ready to welcome the bright light.
He reached for his ice pick. Forgetting he’d lost it when he fell, Sam swung his arms up at the glowing light.
“I’m not done yet!” he said, stupidly.
The orange light then reached down with a giant hand and grabbed him. It lifted him up as though he weighed nothing at all. “I’ll be damned Sam. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you — if you go off doing something stupid on your own, you’re gonna get yourself killed.”
“Tom?”
“Who else would be stupid enough to come searching for you in an Antarctic blizzard?”
Chapter Six
Sam opened his eyes. He was in some sort of vehicle. His mind couldn’t instantly determine what or where it was. The headlights were on, but they barely penetrated the darkness. Windshield wipers swung back and forth. The blizzard was going to bury them if they didn’t find shelter soon.
“Can we make it back to the Maria Helena?” he asked.
Tom shook his head. “No way, the wind is gusting towards us at 120 knots. There’s no way we’re going to be able to drive into it. We’re going to need to find somewhere to ride out the storm.”
Sam thought about the landscape he saw from the top of the mountain. “I think I know a place.”
“Where?” Tom asked.
“The Pegasus science station. It’s just on the other side of this hill. If you keep it on your right until we round it, and then head due south, we’ll hit the research station.”
Tom pressed the main starter switch and an engine began to whir below them. The entire vehicle lifted off the ground as though they were riding a fluffy cloud. “Sounds like a plan.”
Sam grinned. Everything was going to be all right. “You got the hovercraft engine to work in this weather?”
“Veyron did.”
Tom threw the gear forwards and the hovercraft lurched ahead. It picked up speed; going with the wind instead of being thrashed by it like before. The base of the small ice mountain came into view, while the rest of it remained hidden by the storm.
“Keep it on your right until we reach the other side,” Sam reminded him.
“Gotcha, Sam.”
A few minutes later they rounded the mountain. Tom turned the hovercraft due south and then increased power to full. They picked up speed. Designed to be used on water and sand, the hovercraft raced along the icy surface.
Sam looked behind him, where a large electrical heating element had been added. Feeling the warmth on his back, he removed his gloves to absorb some of it. His hands burned as sensation returned. “I like what you’ve done to the hovercraft.”