Polar Quest

She took a deep breath and finished stripping off the rest of her clothes. She felt as if she had thousands of miles of road grunge on her. She hadn’t bathed in over a day and was certain that she must have a peculiar array of scents wafting about even now.

The bathroom was filled with steam when she finally turned off the spigot. She looked at the bubbly surface and then eased herself into the bath. The water greeted her like a warm blanket and she slid all the way into the tub, letting the water cover her.

The scent of the lavender soap filled the air as the bubbles began popping from her movements in the water. She lathered up and felt as if she were molting a layer of grimy skin.

When she was done she stepped from the tub and wrapped a towel around her head and a plush robe around herself. At the mirror, she wiped off the condensation and then checked herself over. She looked fatigued, but she was rapidly waking up. She ran a brush through her moist hair and noticed there was a hair dryer plugged into a wall-mounted unit.

Annja laughed. Probably not the smartest thing to do, go running outside with wet hair. She took the hair dryer and used it until she was satisfied that her hair was completely dry.

She put on some moisturizer that contained a bit of sunblock. She knew the harsh environment would be hard on her skin.

Back in her bedroom, Annja let the robe slide to the floor and stepped into a pair of thermal underwear. Not exactly glamorous, she thought, checking herself out in the mirror. Over the thermals, she added a turtleneck shirt and then a flannel shirt on top of that before pulling on her flannel-lined jeans. She slid two pairs of thick woolen socks over her feet and then stood again.

She felt a lot thicker now.

And hungry.

The wings she’d eaten last night hadn’t done much to relieve her hunger. She poked her head out of the bedroom and wondered if the rooming house had a galley kitchen where she could find some food.

Annja wandered downstairs. A couple of people slept on couches. Beyond the sitting room, she could just make out the kitchen. The lights were on and someone moved around inside it.

Trevor.

“You’re up early,” she said.

He grinned. “Good morning to you, too. How you feeling today?”

“Actually, not all that bad.”

Trevor looked shocked. “Really? A busted rib would set a lot of people on their heels for a few weeks. But you’re okay, huh?”

“It’s only cracked and I guess it wasn’t as bad as we thought.”

“That so?”

Annja shrugged.

He gestured at the stove. “You hungry?”

“Starving.”

“There’s oatmeal. I just made a batch. It’s as fresh as we get it down here. Coffee’s in the pot. Help yourself.”

“Thanks.” Annja got herself a bowl and a mug and scooped some oatmeal into the bowl. As she poured herself a cup of coffee, Trevor came back and handed her a bottle of maple syrup.

“Not sure if you like it—”

“I do.”

He nodded. “Here you go, then.”

Annja poured some on her oatmeal and then followed Trevor out to a small laminate table. She sat and started right in on the oatmeal.

Trevor watched her for a few minutes without saying anything. Finally, he cleared his throat. “You’re up awfully early.”

Annja nodded. “I’m headed out this morning.”

“When?”

Annja checked her watch. “In about a half hour.”

“This early? Where’s the fire?”

Annja smiled. “Horlick Mountain.”

Trevor whistled. “Wow, that’s some haul. Gonna be a long day for you, Annja. I hope your ribs are up to it. Those Sno-Cats aren’t the most luxurious way to travel, if you get my meaning.”

“It’s far?”

“About five hundred kilometers. In good weather. With those Sno-Cats, you guys are going to be looking at a full day, maybe a day and a half of travel. Be better if you just flew.”

“Why aren’t we?”

Trevor smiled. “Weather. It rules the roost around here. This time of year, it’s not safe for a routine flight. We only put planes up if there’s no other alternative.”

“I see.” She sipped her coffee and moaned. “Wow, that’s good stuff.”

Trevor nodded. “I import some nice blends down here. It’s my guilty pleasure, I guess.”

“How long have you been here?” she asked.

“Nine months.”

Annja ate another spoonful of her oatmeal. “Quite a haul.”

“Money’s good. You come down here and you can earn more in a year than you do in five back in the real world. It’s a hefty cost, though, being alone and cut off from the rest of the world. Especially this time of year. The darkness can get to you. But there are benefits, too.”

“Such as?”

Trevor swallowed some coffee. “The landscape is utterly amazing. In a lot of ways, it’s like being on another planet. When you’re out there and away from any signs of civilization, you can almost imagine what it’s like to be out in space.”

Annja nodded. “You miss home?”

“All the time.”

“What about your family?”

Trevor shook his head. “Grew up in orphanages. And I don’t have any emotional attachments. I guess that’s why I’m something of a poster boy for Antarctic employees. No strings back home aside from a few friends who think I’m nuts for coming down here.”