Polar Quest

“Okay.”

Annja looked at him. “You got a name?”

“Trevor. Trevor Howard.”

“You don’t look like much of a cruise director, Trevor. No offense.”

He smirked. “I’m not. But you’re in my building, so I like to know everyone when they come in for the first time. But don’t think of me as your local tour guide or anything.”

Annja pointed outside. “Already got one of those. What do you do here?”

“Try to stay warm,” Trevor said. “What most of us are doing here. Enjoy the room.” He turned and went back to watching the movie.

Annja grabbed her duffel bag and headed up the stairs to the second floor. She found number five easily enough and immediately heaved her duffel bag on top of the bed. She could always unpack later.

Her room was Spartan, but she hadn’t expected much. A double bed with a drawer underneath it occupied most of the room. She had a desk and chair near one wall and a small television on the table by the door. There was an overhead light and a red lamp on the nightstand.

I feel like I’m back in college, she thought.

She resisted the urge to grab a shower and instead headed back downstairs. She glanced quickly at Trevor’s back, but he made no attempt to talk to her again, so she slipped back outside and into the Sno-Cat.

Dave sat there whistling a tune. “All set?”

“Guess so.”

He slid the Sno-Cat into drive. “What’d you think of the place?”

“Like a college dorm.”

Dave nodded. “Sure is. And sometimes, the Air National Guard guys have a keg-tossing contest down at the bars.”

“Wonderful.”

“You meet Trevor?”

“I guess you could call it that.”

“Yeah, he’s like that with everyone. But honestly, he’s a good guy. You need anything, he’ll be there to help you out. Just don’t take it personally that he comes off as a royal pain in the ass.”

“Okay,” Annja said.

They drove back down the main street and then turned left. Through the snow, Annja could see bright lights. “Neon?”

Dave shrugged. “Like I said, gotta make it look like home.”

He slid the Sno-Cat in next to another vehicle and then killed the engine. “We’d better get inside. In this weather, even the cab freezes after about five minutes.”

Annja clambered down again and Dave waited as she walked around. Then he held the door open for her and she ducked inside.

Annja could hear the steady throb of a bass line drum beat. It sounded like they’d just walked into a nightclub. Dave unzipped and showed Annja where she could hang up her parka. “Drink?” he asked.

She nodded. “Definitely.”

They headed for the bar. Annja could make out about twenty people throughout the club, most of them in smaller groups. Some of them ate dinner and others seemed to be laughing over a round of drinks. A few tipsy folks hammed it up on the small parquet wooden floor.

“It’s imitation,” Dave said. “But it looks the part and that’s all that matters sometimes.”

Dave ordered a beer for himself. “What can I get you?”

“Gin and tonic,” Annja said.

The man behind the bar had a white beard longer than the ones worn by the guys in ZZ Top. “We’re out of limes,” he said.

Annja nodded. “That’s fine.”

He slid her the drink and Dave passed some money across. “First round’s on me.”

Annja held up her glass. “Thanks for the warm welcome.”

He clinked his beer bottle and then drank long and deep.

Annja sipped her drink and found it packed a wallop. She turned back to the bartender. “You put any tonic water in this?”

He grinned. “You just got here, right? I figured you could use the extra kick. That flight rattles a lot of people’s nerves.”

Annja smiled and hoisted her glass. “Much appreciated.”

“My pleasure.”

Dave nodded at an empty booth. “Want to sit down?”

Annja shrugged. “Sure. I’m not sure how the heck I’m supposed to find my friend.”

“Zach’ll find you, I’d expect,” Dave said.

“I guess.”

“No, seriously. I’m sure he will. He asked me to bring you here, so he knows you’re in town.”

“Oh, all right.” Annja frowned into her drink. It was a little weird, the entire situation. Being here in this isolated outpost away from the rest of the world. The people here seemed nice enough, but she wondered what kind of person could work in an environment like this and not go crazy.

Dave leaned back and sighed. “So what is it exactly that you do?”

“Me?” Annja grinned. “Mostly I file reports for a show called Chasing History’s Monsters. But occasionally I end up in remote parts of the world in small bars with guys who buy me drinks.”

“Interesting life,” Dave said.

“It has its moments.”