Zodiac Station Read Free Page B

walking the Broads with Luke.
    ‘They said they’ll issue me clothing when I get there,’ I explained.
    ‘Then hopefully we get there,’ he said. I took it as Norwegian humour.
    We carried on north. I stared out the cockpit window, keen for my first sight of Utgard. Behind the clouds, dark patches swam in and out of view, like bruises forming under skin.
    ‘Will we be able to land?’ I asked. The pilot shrugged. Was that another joke?
    My first view of Utgard was a swelling on the horizon, white peaks almost impossible to tell apart from the clouds. As we got closer, they resolved themselves into mountaintops. The clouds parted on a dramatic landscape, a Toblerone rampart guarding the western approach. The island was such a small dot on the map, it was hard to believe so many mountains could fit on it. They seemed to go on for ever.
    We descended between the mountains and skimmed over a white fjord. The pilot banked, turned, and suddenly I saw two rows of red flags staking out the runway like drops of blood. The plane thumped down, bounced slightly, and skied to a stop. Considering we’d landed on solid ice, it was pretty controlled. Outside, I saw a limp windsock, a clutch of oil drums and an orange Sno-Cat. Otherwise, just mountains and snow.
    ‘Welcome to Zodiac,’ said the pilot.
    The cold sank its teeth into me the moment I stepped off the plane. At the foot of the ladder, I saw a woman rolling an oil drum towards me. The first thing that struck me was that she wasn’t wearing a coat: just a thick knitted jumper, ski trousers, and a woolly hat with tasselled flaps covering her ears. A long blonde plait hung down her back. Her cheeks were flushed red with the cold, and the eyes that looked up at me were a cool ice-blue.
    ‘Tom Anderson,’ I introduced myself.
    ‘You’re in the way,’ she shouted, though I could barely hear her. The pilot had left one of the engines running, and the propeller almost drowned her out. So much for the silence of the Arctic. I scrambled out of her way and stood on the sidelines while she and the pilot ran a hose from the fuel drum to the plane. When that was secure, the pilot climbed in the cabin while the woman reversed the Sno-Cat up to the door. The pilot began sliding out the boxes of supplies we’d brought, which she loaded into the back. They seemed to have forgotten I existed.
    I wanted to savour my first sight of the Arctic, but it was hard to concentrate. The cold squeezed my skull; my ears hurt as if they’d been slapped, and the icy wind made my eyes water. The propeller racket beat against me, and every breath I took was heavy with aviation fuel. I had gloves on, but they might as well have been tissue paper.
    ‘If you freeze to death before you sign the paperwork, the insurance doesn’t pay out,’ said the woman. I hadn’t noticed her come over. She grabbed my arm and dragged me towards the Sno-Cat. I couldn’t believe how useless I’d got so quickly: I couldn’t even lift myself into the cab without a shove from behind. But the engine was on, and the heater made the cab decently warm. I didn’t like to think what all those engines running non-stop must be doing to the atmosphere. At that moment, I didn’t care.
    The woman climbed in and circled the Sno-Cat round, while the Twin Otter executed a quick turn back down the runway. In an impossibly short distance, it lifted off and disappeared behind the mountains.
    ‘I hope you didn’t change your mind,’ said the woman. I still hadn’t caught her name.
    ‘Tom Anderson,’ I introduced myself again.
    She nodded, and kept on driving.
    ‘What’s your name?’
    ‘Greta.’
    ‘How long have you been here?’
    ‘Two years.’
    ‘Must be tough,’ I sympathised.
    ‘I like the silence.’
    I took the hint. The Sno-Cat ground and bounced its way over the snow. Round the base of an outcropping mountain, into a low valley – and suddenly there was Zodiac.
    It looked like a spaceship landed on an alien