A Grue Of Ice (39 page)

Authors: Geoffrey Jenkins

BOOK: A Grue Of Ice

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must have a ceremony in honour of Thompson Island. We

will hoist flags and fire guns."

I made my decision. " Captain Olstad: there
is
a function which you as captain are empowered to perform. I ask
that
it
should have priority over any ceremonial."

219

The Norwegian looked surprised at my tone. " The safety of my ship and the welfare of my crew is my first consideration, I am afraid, Captain Wetherby. Any request must be subsidiary to that.
Thorshammer
is a job for a dockyard. It will take months to make her seaworthy. Here I am, stuck in an unknown harbour, thousands of miles from anywhere...."

" You have overlooked the four catchers," I replied. " Signal them to come here. I'll give you the position. Warn them to approach from the south-east, like Kohler used to do, otherwise they'll be in trouble at the entrance to the fjord. You can leave a skeleton crew to look after
Thorshammer
while the catchers take us to Cape Town. You can arrange assistance from there."

" That is excellent," he said. He grinned suddenly. " It is going to take a hell of a lot of explaining, though. What is your request, Captain Wetherby?"

I took Helen's hand in mine. " You are entitled to perform a marriage service, are you not?"

Olstad's face broke into a boyish grin. " By heavens,

Captain ! —you and this lady?"

Helen's eyes were luminous as Parry's Arc. At my words, she sat upright, the sea-leopard coat falling from her wounded shoulder, leaving it and her neck bare.

Olstad shook us both by the hand. " This will be good for Thompson Island! A wedding to mark its rediscovery!

It will be good for the morale of my crew, too. There is still some sad work to be done burying those poor lads lying on

deck."

A massive peal of thunder, more distant now, shook the ship as the ice-barrage continued to the south of the island. Olstad's face went tense, but relaxed when he realised it was not gunfire. " I would like to hear about your trip in your own words," he said to Sailhardy.

I interrupted wryly, " What he really wanted was to sail from Bouvet to Cape Town."

" The hardship, the storm . . ." Olstad started to say. Then he shrugged. " Upton must have been mad rather than obsessed to have done all this merely in order to discover one useless little island."

A cold stab went through me remembering the veins of caesium ore. Something of what I was thinking must have

been in the minds of Helen and Sailhardy, too. They both watched me as I stayed silent. Who, I asked myself, except

Upton with his highly specialised knowledge shared by per220 haps four other scientists in Sweden and Cambridge, could identify the veins for what they were—pollucite, Upton had called it—the bearers of the world's most priceless metal? Who among ordinary scientists was capable of placing pollucite and caesium? If we kept silent, who would know—I myself had seen a score of islands in the Southern Ocean streaked white from other causes. The savage current and perpetual fog-belt made access itself to Thompson Island hazardous into the bargain. Once the first flush of its rediscovery had passed, would Thompson Island not sink back into oblivion again—provided the secret of the caesium were kept?

" Useless?" I echoed.

Olstad shrugged again. " Perhaps it has some value as a harbour for whalers, but what else, with the risks? Bouvet is close, but few catchers use its anchorage."

I was about to say something about global strategy, the importance of the Cape of Good Hope sea route, and flights

over the South Pole, but I saw the look in Helen's eyes.

" Yes," I said slowly. " Thompson Island seems to have only a certain limited value as a whalers' harbour."

Sailhardy inclined his head as if listening to the distant

ice.

Helen reached up and touched my arm. " Old John

Wetherby would have liked it that way," she said.

221

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