Polar Quest

And too much to say, Annja thought.

“Why do you ask, anyway?” Dave said.

“Just that I noticed you use ‘her’ a lot when you’re describing things. I thought there might be a logical explanation for it.”

Dave nodded. “Oh, there is, there is. My father used to use that all the time. I guess after he died, I kind of took it to heart and started using it as a way of maybe remembering him better on a daily basis.”

Annja smiled. “That’s awfully insightful of you.”

“I just miss him is all,” Dave said. He took a breath and flicked the wipers as snow started coming down outside.

Annja glanced back over her seat. In the darkness, she could barely make out the LC-130 sitting in the snow as it was refueled.

“Will they be able to get out of here?” she asked.

Dave nodded. “Those guys? They’re amazing. You know you landed on skis, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, invariably, what ends up happening is the skis stop the plane through friction. Yep, the pilot doesn’t even use the throttle or brakes to control her when she comes in.”

“How nice to know that after I’m already here,” Annja said.

Dave laughed. “Yep, they don’t tell you that ahead of time, no siree.”

Annja smiled. “Go on.”

“So the friction melts the snow, you know? Then once the plane stops, the melted ice refreezes pretty darned quick and keeps the plane in place. You might have noticed they weren’t tying her down.”

“I thought that was because they were going to be leaving very quickly.”

“Nope, just no need to do so. The ice keeps her in place.”

“And what—they have to dig the plane out when they’re ready to leave?” Annja asked.

Dave shrugged. “You know, sometimes that does happen. But most times, the pilot will put the wheels down to break up the ice and then retract them back into the plane. Then the skis can move again and the plane can take off.”

Annja sighed. “It’s fascinating.”

“Dangerous, too. Those aircrews, they’re amazing people. Some of the folks down here owe them their lives,” Dave said.

“The woman with breast cancer, right?” Annja asked, recalling the news story a few years earlier.

“Yep, and another doctor down near the pole. Both of them had to be evacuated out of here when the weather wasn’t too spectacular.” He glanced at Annja. “You know, kind of like how you were just flown in.”

Annja looked at him. “I guess that’s a bit unusual, huh?”

“You could say that. This time of year, things get mighty ferocious down here. Lots of folks are still down at the various outposts and stations, and by and large, we’re cut off from the outside world.”

“You’re trapped here?” Annja asked.

Dave sniffed. “If we’re being honest?”

“Always.”

“Yep. We’re trapped here. Unless one of us is important enough to warrant sending in another plane. But that doesn’t happen all that often. For the most part, what you see when we get to McMurdo is what you get.”

“The pilot said there was a place to get a drink,” Annja said.

“Three places, actually,” Dave said. “Depends on what your pleasure is, I guess.”

“Meaning?”

Dave eyed her. “You smoke?”

“No.”

“Okay, so I’m guessing you wouldn’t want to hang out at Southern Exposure. It’s a bit small anyway, and with the smokers, you’ll have the hazy funk infecting your clothes if you go in. Still, it can be a fun place.”

“What else have you got?”

Dave tapped his fingers along the steering wheel. “If you’re into wine and cheese, you can check out the coffee-house. It’s pretty mellow. A lot of folks head on over there to relax after a day at work.”

Annja frowned. The thought of spending too much time at a coffeehouse didn’t excite her much, either. “Anything else?”

“Yep. We have a place called Gallagher’s.”

“Gallagher’s?”

“Named after a guy who died out on the ice of a heart attack. Our way of remembering him, I guess.”

“It’s a good place?” Annja asked.

“Oh, yeah. Nonsmoking so there’s no funk. Bigger than any of the other places and the dance floor is usually packed.” He eyed her. “You a dancer?”

“Depends on my mood,” she said with a grin.

“Fair one. Anyway, we’ve got some pretty old beer for fifty cents a can. I never touch it. But they’re getting some pretty good stuff down here these days, too. Bottles of Sam Adams, which are damned good brews. Plus, you’ve got the wine and the mixed drinks, too. And if you’re up for it, we’ve got a pretty kick-butt group of folks who love to do karaoke. Swing night just got started, as well.”

“All that?” Annja asked, amazed.

Dave smiled. “Even though there aren’t that many of us, we have to make it as much like home as we can. It gets tough sometimes, but that’s how we do it.”

Annja peered out of the windshield. The snow seemed to be falling harder now than it was before. “You weren’t kidding about the weather.”

Dave frowned. “You’ll find that’s about the one thing no one kids about down here. When we say it’s getting bad outside, take us at our word. It’s not going to be nice.”

“Noted.”