Deep Ice Read Free

name’s Henry Gibbs, out of McMurdo. My radio went out yesterday and hasn’t worked since. I was hoping you gents might have a spare radio you would sell or loan or trade,” said Henry. “Just don’t ask for one of my dogs,” he added with a grin, patting Sadie who sat dutifully at his side.
    The man looked back at his two companions. “Either of you have a spare radio for this gentleman?” he said.
    The two men just shook their heads.
    Henry couldn’t see why the men were acting so ominously. He wasn’t good at humour, but he would try anything to get a radio. He noticed one of the men was smoking. He recalled his Norwegian grandmother asking his grandfather for a cigarette in their native tongue. He’d heard her say it so often that he’d never forgotten the words.
    “ Har du en sigarett? ” he said in Norwegian, approaching the man.
    It was as good a conversation starter as anything else. In fact, he’d quit smoking, but he missed the habit from time to time. Seeing the man’s cigarette had made him suddenly want one. Besides, this far from civilization he wouldn’t have the opportunity to get hooked again. The man continued to puff on his cigarette without any change of expression. He didn’t seem to understand what Henry had said.
    “Gee,” said Henry, “is my Norwegian that bad? That was my grandma’s favourite Norwegian phrase. She didn’t teach me much, but I remember that’s exactly how she always asked my grandpa for a smoke.” He laughed. “She never carried them. . . she always bummed from him.”
    The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a plastic cigarette box. He held it out to Henry, but only after the leader had nodded his approval.
    “It surprised us that you knew Norwegian,” said the soldier. “My name’s Werner.”
    The leader scowled at him but said nothing.
    Henry took the box, opened it and removed a filter- tipped cigarette. Then he remembered his Grandpop Lars’s pat answer when Grandma Frieda bummed his smokes. “Those things will kill you!” he would say in Norwegian. “Have another.” Then his grandpa would wink devilishly at the kids. Henry smiled at the man who’d given him the cigarette.
    “ Dette vil ta livet av deg! Ta en til! ” He added a wink like his grandpa’s. But the man’s expression still didn’t change.
    Henry looked at the three men. “Are any of you Norwegian?” he asked.
    “Some are,” said the leader. “We’re not.”
    Henry nodded. It wasn’t unusual to find multinational groups exploring the Antarctic, particularly since the ozone hole had made headlines all over the world. But, if these men were military and showing Norwegian colours, it was odd the soldiers with the group didn’t understand the language, particularly the commander. He felt a shiver that had nothing to do with the piercing wind. Something was wrong.
    “How about that radio? Or at least can I get a report on the weather?” he continued as though the previous conversation hadn’t occurred. “I haven’t been out that long, and I’d really hate to have to go all the way back to McMurdo for only a damned radio. Can’t you guys help me out?”
    The leader of the three men was older than the others by at least ten years. His greying hair and beard were well manicured, unusual in Antarctica where people don’t always have the opportunity to get their faces wet, and generally don’t see much of each other’s faces anyway. The man cocked his head to the left and smiled. He pulled his automatic weapon off his shoulder and flipped the safety off.
    “I think we can help you out, all right,” said the man.
    Then he shot Henry.
    #
    Numbness gave way to pain as Henry regained consciousness. He opened his eyes but saw only darkness. Moments passed before he remembered that he’d been killed. His chest stung and ached. Slowly, carefully, he tried his lungs. He inhaled until the pain prevented it. Coughing, he rose to a kneeling position. He brushed the snow off