Sam flicked to the next channel.
It displayed the same repetitive crackling sound, and so did the next channel. He tried another three before he gave up.
Could there be a subliminal message behind the static?
If so, what is the message?
Chapter Eight
Tom walked into the room. He took one look at Sam’s face and knew something was wrong. It was pensive, and his usual curiosity appeared to have been replaced by a new worry. Sam had his head turned slightly to the left, with his ear right up against the radio speakers. His eyes were closed as though he was straining to hear the sound or recall a song.
“What do you hear, Sam?”
Sam ignored him. His right hand tapping a slight beat onto the side of the wooden table. It was slow at first, then increasing in its tempo. The sound reminded him of classical piano as it changed from fast to slow, and then soft to loud. It sounded mysterious, more like something by Debussy rather than Bach or Chopin.
Tom waited.
Sam turned the radio to off and tapped the same tune with his fingers. The tone was distinct, rhythmical, and compelling.
“What is that?” Tom asked.
Sam stopped what he was doing; his eyes wide with interest. “I have no idea.”
Tom sat down on a chair next to the radio. “I guess you couldn’t get through to the Maria Helena.”
“No,” Sam replied. “All this static is blocking everything.”
Tom looked at the table where Sam had started to drum the same, compelling beat with his fingers again. “Not everything.”
Sam grinned. “I didn’t even realize I was doing that. No, not everything was blocked. Behind all the static this tune seems to be on a continuous transmission.”
The microwave at the other end of the room beeped. Tom stood up again. “That’s our lunch. Dehydrated macaroni and cheese. I would have expected more from the French scientists. Don’t worry about the radio, this storm will be over soon and then it won’t take long for us to return to the Maria Helena.”
“I’m not worried,” Sam replied. “Just curious what that sound was, that’s all. It seems familiar to me. I can’t place it, but I’m sure I’ve heard it before. Somehow, it doesn’t fill me with warm feelings. Instead it reminds me of something terrible that’s happened. A part of my life my mind’s tried to cover up. I just can’t for the life of me think what that is.”
Tom shrugged his shoulders. “It might just be music being broadcast by one of the other science stations. That’s all.”
“You’re probably right.”
Tom and Sam spent the next two days waiting for the storm to subside. The food was boring, but plentiful. Tom spent the time reading a good book. Something about a futuristic world called Prism, by Alan Dean Foster. He enjoyed it. Sam on the other hand, squandered his free time trying to write down the musical score to the sound he’d heard.
It was seven a.m. when the storm passed and they were able to remove the covers off the hovercraft. The Southern Lights display had finished. The sky was dark and crystal clear, providing a horizon filled to the brim with stars.
Tom switched on the electric heating element inside the hovercraft. Within a few minutes it glowed like fire. Twenty minutes later, the important components were warm enough to start the engine. Tom sat in the driver’s seat and flicked on the master switch.
The engine started slowly.
He let it warm up until he was confident that it would make it back to the Maria Helena. Sam left a note for the absent science crew to contact the Maria Helena if they returned, using VHF channel 16. He then closed the front door.
Tom switched the headlights on and the white, fluffy snow reached the horizon. He placed the hovercraft into gear, and the entire thing lifted off the ground as its skirt inflated.
It would be an easy run back to the Maria Helena. The crisp snow covered the undulating landscape for miles. Tom increased the speed of the main propeller, mounted at the rear of the hovercraft, until it reached maximum RPM.
They would reach the Maria Helena soon.
Tom came over the next hill and landed into the icy waters of Weddell Sea. The spray of water shot out in all directions. Next to him, Sam braced his hand on the dashboard as the change in momentum threw him forward.
Tom brought the hovercraft to an idle. In the distance, miles out to sea, he saw the faint outline of a ship — most likely the Maria Helena. “Where the hell did the giant iceberg go?”
Chapter Nine
Sam brought out his computer tablet. He swiped to the side until he found the icon he was looking for and pressed to open it. A moment later the GPS App opened. It positioned them on the very edge of Weddell Sea. He was initially worried they’d approached from a different angle or something and was off course.
He looked at the ship in the distance and correlated it with their current position. “That must be the Maria Helena out there, Tom.”
Tom shook his head. “I gathered that. What I want to know is where the damned island of ice disappeared to? I mean the place was massive. It had a small mountain and everything!”
“Maybe the storm blew it out to sea again?”
“Elise never did work out where the ice had come from, did she?” Tom asked.
“No. Despite reviewing a series of current and recent satellite images of the surrounding coastline and the ice shelf, her computer programs couldn’t determine where the ice mass had come from. It was like the entire landmass of ice just appeared out of nowhere.” Sam shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe it returned there.”
“It came from somewhere. Most likely the bulk of its mass was underwater. That’s the reason Elise’s program can’t find a match on the ice shelf where it broke away from.”
“So then, where did it go now?”
“The storm probably blew it out to sea. I wouldn’t worry. Let’s get back to the Maria Helena and work out what we’re going to do about those missing scientists.”
Sam felt his shoulders sink back in his seat as Tom accelerated again. The hovercraft skimmed across the still water of the bay. Within minutes they were slowing down again, coming to a complete stop on the portside of the Maria Helena. “At least she’s still where we left her.”
“Yeah, she’s one trustworthy girl.”
Sam opened the side hatch and climbed out onto the hovercraft’s rubber skirt.
Veyron peered at them from the side of the Maria Helena. “You two gentlemen picked one hell of a weekend to go camping. Did you find the scientists?”
“No,” Sam said. “We’ll tell you all about it shortly.”
Veyron lowered the winch cable and Sam connected it to the hovercraft’s chain link. Ten minutes later the hovercraft was being secured on the aft deck. Sam and Tom walked into the bridge with Veyron. Matthew and Elise greeted them once they were inside. And a moment later Genevieve brought them both warm minestrone soup.
Matthew smiled at them. “Good to see you made it back. Are all your fingers and toes still intact?”
Sam held up his hands. “No frostbite. Warm hands warm heart.”
Tom grinned. “You don’t have enough good sense to freeze.”
Sam ignored Tom’s comment. He looked at Matthew. “Where the hell did that storm come from, anyway? I thought you said there was nothing significant on the synoptic charts for the next few days?”
“Sorry Sam. There weren’t any signs of the storm on the synoptic charts, radar or satellite weather prediction software. It must have been a localized weather pattern.”