A Grue Of Ice (22 page)

9.
Metal of the Heavens

Next morning
Antarctica
presented a sorry sight. All night the crew, under my orders and Sailhardy's unflagging direction, had brought up on deck every available case of food, every blanket, every item of warm clothing. I had got the emergency power plant working, since the main supply from the engine-room had disappeared in the explosion. Now the deck was stacked with tons of supplies. Over everything, as I looked down from the bridge to the maindeck shortly after dawn, lay a fine patina of ice and frost. Unshaven, sleepless, and hoarse from shouting orders, I had waited for the light in order to find a platform on the ice strong enough to bear the weight of the stores. Throughout the night the ice had tightened its anaconda grip on the dying ship. Rivet by rivet, plate by plate, the life was being strangled out of her. Between decks, her dying noises seemed more than inanimate—a line of rivets would tremble first, then bulge, and then tear with a sub-human sound as the inch-thick plating buckled and burst.

In search of the ice-platform, Sailhardy and I had swung ourselves down over the ship's side at first light on to the ice. We had found it within a hundred yards of the ship. We had hammered in long ice-poles with scarlet flags to delimit the safe area ; to the left and right of the area, where the ice remained precarious, we had placed a double row of smaller poles carrying orange flags. The platform was slightly longer than wide, and the sun, half obscured by flying cloud, painted it sable, mink and russet ; even Sailhardy's faded, weathered anorak and balaclava were transformed to soft champagne by the diffused light. It was typical of Sailhardy that he had planted a Norse flag at half-mast in the centre of the ice-platform to honour the death of the ship.

Antarctica
lay half over on her starboard side where the water, long since turned to solid ice, had poured through he hole in her side. The port wing of the bridge, connected to the enclosed section by an open lattice covered with a canvas dodger, leaned skywards away from the ice platform. The bright orange of the helicopter stood out on the ship's flensing platform. Helen was to fly it off to safety on the ice as soon it was light enough. A broken davit hung like a

125

Narwhal's tusk, impotent. On the port, or sun's side,
Antarctica's
side was bronze-gold ; to starboard, or the engine-room side, it was blue-black in the ship's own shadow ; neither shadow nor ice could mask the seared plates and mangled corpse.

Making our way back to the ship, we had marked—again by means of flags—a safe path across the ice from the platform to
Antarctica. It
was hopeless, Sailhardy and I had agreed during the night, to try and remain aboard. Apart from the

noise of plates and steel beams rending, everything had begun to distort at a crazy angle between decks, making doors and bulkheads death-traps, and I feared that before long the icevice would exert its pressure fore and aft as well. Already there was an ominous bulge on the maindeck below the bridge.

Throughout the previous night, Helen had remained on the bridge with me. At intervals she had brought me cups of boiling cocoa. She had talked little, and before the predawn cloud had begun to obscure the sky, the hard stars were blue points in her eyes. Following the explosion, I had brought Upton, Walter and Bjerko on the bridge, but after a time, when I saw there was no immediate danger, I had Sailhardy lock them up again. Upton had been morose, unspeaking, completely withdrawn. Apart from the trouble of guarding the men, I was glad to get rid of his sullen ill-temper. He and Helen had not spoken to each other. The disaster had had exactly the opposite effect on Pirow's temperament. He was tireless and brilliantly efficient, and during the long hours he had sat glued to his radio I had had an insight into his perverted genius. It seemed to make no difference to him that I had chained him up ; action at his beloved instruments

stimulated and engrossed him as he relayed to me reports on the catchers, their position on the troublesome radar and
Thorshammer's
signals.

The night signals were, however, of little significance after the one Pirow had passed on to me immediately after the explosion.
Thorshammer
had ordered Reidar Bull, Hanssen and Lars Brunvoll to seize me, Upton, Pirow and Walter. The skippers, said the message, were to rendezvous with the destroyer at Bouvet Island and hand us over.

There was nothing we could do but await their coming. We had no escape. I had told only Helen and Sailhardy what
Thorshammer
intended to do. What I was at a loss to understand, however, was why
Thorshammer
had not come 126

herself. Why order the catcher captains to arrest us? Where was
Thorshammer
now? What was she about that was more important? From Pirow I could get no reply. He had blamed sunspot interference on the radio, and fragments which he passed on to me were too garbled to be comprehensible.

Sailhardy, Helen and I stood on the bridge as the first burdened men started to climb down a hastily-rigged gangplank and scrambling-net, following the path of the marker flags to the platform. The wind had not risen nearly as much as I had expected, but it was enough to carry a series of fine snow-flurries and reduce visibility intermittently to a few hundred yards. I did not know where the catchers were. Nor had I any idea of the extent of the icefield. Pirow had been trying for hours to try and pin-point the catchers.

Impatiently I picked up the phone to Pirow. " Any radar contacts yet? Where the hell are those ships, Pirow? If any man can find them, you can, either by radio or radar." His tone had never varied, and it showed no traces of his shift of nearly fifteen hours. " No contacts, Herr Kapitan." A slight note of irony crept into the level voice. "I appreciate your compliment."

I wondered again how much of Kohler's unequalled success had been due to the misdirected genius at the other end of my line. We had respected Kohler, the humane if deadly hunter, but we had feared the implacable Man with the Immaculate Hand.

" Keep trying," I said. " Report the slightest sign of them to me."

" Aye, aye, Herr Kapitan."

Helen said quickly: " Let me go and look for them in the helicopter, Bruce! That would give you something definite to
go
on, once you knew what they were doing." I glanced at the snow-filled sky. " The only distance you are going to fly that machine is from here to the platform. By this afternoon it will be a full gale. If
Thorshammer
wants us, let her or the catcher boys come and get us. You're staying right here!"

" Let me do something!" she exclaimed. " Shall I fly off now?—to the platform. It is quite light enough."

" Yes," I agreed reluctantly. " For heaven's sake be careful, though. I've ordered the men to have some full fuel drums there ready to lash the machine to. Otherwise it might blow away later."

She smiled. " I've been trained for just this, you know." 127

" Not in the Southern Ocean," I replied.

" Bruce," she went on, " when—and if—the skippers come, what are you going to do about my father? Are you simply going to hand him over . ..?"

I shrugged. " Our first problem is simply to survive. You forget, I'm in the same boat.
Thorshammer
wants me as much as your father and Walter. It's only my word against theirs—I'm supposed to have shot down the seaplane."

" Bruce!" broke in Sailhardy. " Perhaps this sounds a little wild, but it won't be difficult. Let us take the whaleboat, you and I. We can carry her across the ice to the sea. She's light. There are plenty of supplies. We can make Bouvet, you and I. She'll stand up to any weather."

I looked deep into Helen's strange eyes. Putting aside the

fact that such an escape would brand me guilty anyway, she knew and I knew that to leave the other now was no longer possible.

I laughed it off. " You're trying to be another Shackleton or Bligh, Sailhardy. We belong in less heroic times."

" Shackleton survived seven hundred and fifty miles in and ordinary open ship's boat . . ." he began, " and Bouvet is less than one hundred. . . ."

I cut him short more harshly than I intended. " You are under my orders, Sailhardy. We stay. The same goes for you, Helen. Now fly off that machine. Watch yourself." She smiled. " Aye, aye, Herr Kapitan," she mocked. I was so intent on making sure Helen took off safely from

the canted deck that I did not notice the three figures emerge from a snow-flurry and make their way to the gangplank. The roar of the helicopter's rotors was over my head after a perfect take-off before I saw the crew of the
Antarctica
start to fall back round the gangplank.

Reidar Bull, Hanssen and Lars Brunvoll strode through the men. There was no mistaking their purposefulness, or the grim, bitter anger in their snow-streaked faces. Nor was there any mistaking the purpose of the Schmeisser machinepistol Reidar Bull held. A man was coming down the gangplank shouldering a sack, and Reidar Bull thrust him roughly to one side with an oath. Reidar Bull was big, and not unlike Walter, but now it was his hand which I noticed for the first t i m e . F r o m h i s l e f t h a n d , g r i p p i n g t h e b a r r e l o f t h e Schmeisser, three fingers were gone—at some time a faulty harpoon cable must have ripped them off. Hanssen, tall and blond, followed Reidar Bull up the side, and Lars Brunvoll, 128

black bearded, brought up the rear. The men unloading gaped. For the moment they forgot that every gallon of fuel and every tin of food they humped over the side might save a life later on.

The three skippers strode quickly up the bridge ladder to

where I was. Heidar Bull shoved over the safety catch when he saw me. I had forgotten the Luger and long knife stuck in my duffel-coat belt.

Reidar Bull pointed the wicked-looking weapon at me. " Hanssen! Get those things off him! You, Brunvoll, watch the islander." He came closer to me. " Where are the others?"

I shrugged. " In irons. I'm trying to salvage what is left of this ship. I would have saved the ship herself if you three lilylivered bastards had obeyed me and brought your catchers in to keep the lead open."

Reidar Bull's savage mood seemed to be inflamed by my

words. " Listen, Captain! You and this whole crooked bunch are under arrest. See? I'm taking you . .."

" I know," I said shortly. " You're taking me and the others to a rendezvous at Bouvet and handing us over to
Thorshammer.
I heard it over the radio."

Lars Brunvoll could not keep back his anger. " The killer whale I have seen go and tear out a Blue Whale's tongue just for the sport. You are not a killer whale, but by God! it made me wonder what you are when I saw you shoot down the seaplane !"

Reidar Bull waved the Schmeisser in my face when I opened

my mouth to tell them about the Spandau-Hotchkiss. Hanssen also swore threateningly. " Here in the Antarctic men die hard," he said. " However desperate you are yourself, you never call in help, if it will endanger their lives. That is the code. You know it, Captain. Your Captain Scott died like that, and the world still remembers. You, however, deliberately took life."

" Norwegians' lives," added Reidar Bull. " Young Norwegians, who did not have your killer ways, Captain. I saw them. They flew right into your bullets. Your shooting was good—too good. Now you and your friends will pay for it.

" he glanced down at his shattered hand, as if something in his past were bringing alive again the seaplane crew's agony when the bullets went home.

" I have put these friends of mine, as you call them, in irons because they intended to kill me," I said. " Not only G.I. 129

myself, but Sailhardy here. Look at his face, if you don't

believe me."

I told them briefly about Norris' chart, Thompson Island,

and what I had overheard on the Tannoy.

Reidar Bull replied with a four-letter word. The other two laughed harshly.

" I don't give a bloody damn for your fine stories—you can tell them all to
Thorshammer,"
Reidar Bull said. " My job is to take you back to the destroyer, and I shall. We've got the catchers moored against the ice-edge about five miles from here. It will mean a slog across the ice, and I would not advise you to try any tricks. Now get down there!" He jerked the Schmeisser's muzzle towards the ice-platform. " Hanssen! Yours and Lars go and fetch the others there too. And get these gaping clots away—" indicating the crew—" I want a little talk with all the prisoners before we set off." Reidar Bull, Sailhardy and I waited fully ten minutes on the flag-marked platform for the others. When the three of us arrived, Helen swung herself slowly down from the helicopter cockpit. She said nothing. Our eyes met. In her sealeopard coat, she seemed to merge with the surroundings. The curtain of snow saved us the embarrassment of being stared at by
Antarctica's
crew.