Beneath the Ice (32 page)

RICHARD PEARL PULLED
off his sunglasses, squinting in the bright Antarctic sun. He smoothed back his light red hair before tilting his head a little closer towards Vidar Stang and staring directly into his ghostly pale eyes. He could see so much of the father in the son. A fact that greatly pleased him.

A second passed before Pearl’s forehead creased in a calculated display of regret.

‘I never meant to leave you alone like that,’ he said. ‘The other pilots had to leave and I wasn’t able to get anyone back to you. You know me, Vidar, I would never have abandoned you.’

Stang shifted from one foot to the other in the snow, still doubting Pearl’s sincerity. He was dressed in snow-camouflage fatigues with a black balaclava rolled up over his head to serve as a hat, while his hunting rifle was slung lengthways across his colossal back. Towering a full head higher than Pearl, he stared down at him for a moment more, upper lip curled into a disbelieving sneer.

‘But . . . you left me blind . . .’ he managed to accuse the other man.

Stang had practised what he was going to say for nearly ten months, but now that Pearl was finally before him, all he could do was stammer half-baked recriminations. Nothing was going according to script, and with each failed attempt his frustration mounted.

‘I swear I knew nothing about the missing goggles,’ Pearl countered, quick to continue. ‘I couldn’t have known that you would go snow blind.’

He stepped forward, reaching out one hand and gently cupping Stang’s chin in his fingers. When he had left Antarctica over a year ago he had calculated everything to ensure that Stang suffered but survived. He wanted the Norwegian’s existence out on the ice to be nothing short of a living hell and knew how much the petty torments would sap his morale. By changing the ration order to consist of only a single meal and removing all the books Stang had planned to read, he was condemning him to months of misery. Stealing his sunglasses had been a last-minute idea but one that had evidently cost Stang the most.

As Pearl stared into the Norwegian’s burnt eyes, the corners of his lips slanted upwards in satisfaction. But he had to tread carefully. He could see the simmering rage inside the man and knew how easily Stang could snap. The childlike uncertainty had gone, replaced by a new and assertive Vidar Stang. It was a side to him Pearl had never seen before.

‘Vidar, you have to understand something. Since your father died, you’ve been like the son I never had. And you know me, I’d never do anything to hurt family.’

Stang stared into his eyes, desperate to refute him, but equally desperate to believe. How many times had he pictured this scene? How many hours had he spent in fantasy, revelling in the thought of crushing Pearl’s skull between his bare hands? He had laughed in pure joy at the thought of pressing his thumbs into Pearl’s eyeballs and feeling the soft orbs pop into liquid mulch. Each night, he had used the compass to gouge out a little more of Pearl’s eyeballs from the photograph above his bed. It had acted like an antidote to all his suffering. He had revelled in the knowledge that one day he would blind Pearl and watch
him
fumble and panic, just as he had done in those first few days after arriving in Antarctica.

But now, everything seemed to have changed and he felt so confused. Pearl had described him as a ‘son’. The thought was incredible, magical even. A son! Since Fedor had died so suddenly, Vidar had wanted nothing more than another father in his life, someone he could trust and depend on. Pearl’s words instantly filled him with a glow that he hadn’t experienced in as long as he could remember. It was the glow of requited love.

As Stang’s slablike face glanced shyly towards the ground, Pearl looked back towards Helena Coroni, the helicopter pilot, standing a few feet away. He signalled to the back seat of the helicopter to where a sealed metal case still lay, motioning for her to retrieve it. In that one moment, Pearl knew he had won Stang over, but it had taken him nearly an hour to do so.

Coroni turned, not bothering to hide the alacrity with which she bounded back to the machine. She had to get away from that monster, if only for a few minutes. Ever since they had first landed, she had been utterly mesmerised by Stang, watching him with the same fascinated revulsion as she might a car crash being played out in slow motion.

Stang’s gigantic frame and barrel chest gave him an imposing demeanour, but what really appalled her was his face. The black skin and chunks of peeling flesh made him look demonic, as if he had just passed through the gates of hell. For the entire hour they had been there, Stang hadn’t once registered her presence. All he seemed to see was Pearl, those blank eyes never leaving the man for a second. There was something insatiable about his behaviour, as if Pearl’s attention were the only thing Stang craved.

Now Pearl had won him over. He had deflected every accusation, and in return drip-fed Stang his own particular brand of ‘love’. Following Pearl around day after day in her role as his personal pilot, Coroni had seen the same performance many times before, but never had she felt such a desperate yearning for him to succeed. She could only imagine what the Norwegian would have done to them if things had gone awry.

Over the last few years she had occasionally heard Pearl mention Stang’s name, but always with derision and anger in the way he did it. It was one of the few times his veneer cracked and she got a glimpse into the real man. One thing was for certain: his relationship with Stang wasn’t just about the lake. She saw elements of fear in Pearl’s hatred, as if he were trying to fulfil some kind of long-standing vendetta, but was too afraid to see it through.

‘Helena!’

She turned at the sound of Pearl’s voice. He was standing next to Stang with his fist lightly pressed against the Norwegian’s brawny arm. The pose was casual, ingratiating even, but she could see the faintest look of uncertainty in Pearl’s eyes. She knew that he was not a brave man by nature and suspected he was actually terrified of the monster he had created in Stang.

Just as Coroni approached, holding the briefcase in her right hand, Stang looked up and into Pearl’s eyes.

‘I want to go with you,’ he said. This time the anger was gone, replaced by something desperate, almost pitiful.

‘We’ve been through all this, Vidar,’ Pearl replied, flashing him a reassuring smile. ‘You have to stay to ensure the monitoring equipment is working. It’s only another two days.’

‘But I want to go now.’

Pearl shook his finger at him as if scolding a child. ‘Be reasonable. After so many months and so many accomplishments, why would you want to throw it all away now?’

He gently patted his fist against Stang’s arm. ‘You’re our man, Vidar. You’re the only one who can get it done. And don’t worry. All the arrangements have been made. The container ship will dock off the barrier in two days’ time to unload and you’ll be able to get onboard then. Everything’s been planned to the last detail.’

Stang stayed motionless, expression entirely unreadable behind his blank eyes.

‘After we launch the seed, Helena and I need to fly back. But we’ll be seeing you in under a week. You mustn’t worry. We’ll be together again soon.’

Stang could feel his breath quicken at the thought of them leaving. A surge of panic washed over him and he reached out, grabbing Pearl’s shoulder. The sheer weight of his arm made the older man stagger back a pace.

‘You can’t go,’ panted Stang. ‘You can’t leave me again.’

Pearl steadied himself, swallowing several times to regain his composure.

‘Vidar, you do this for me and, I promise, you’ll want for nothing when you’re back in the real world. There’s so much you’ve had to endure, so many sacrifices you’ve had to make. Together, we’re going to right all that.’

As he spoke, he slowly released himself from Stang’s grip and moved over to Coroni. She stared at him in confusion, eyes following his every move as he came around behind her and gently, but forcefully, gripped her by the shoulders.

‘Look what you’ve been missing,’ he whispered across to the Norwegian. Raising his gloved hand, Pearl pulled back a few strands of her long dark hair, revealing her high cheekbones and classic, Italian looks. Coroni flinched, her jaw clenching with revulsion as Stang’s eyes slowly changed direction across to her, taking stock of her for the first time. Unabashed, his pale eyes followed the line of her forehead and down past her nose, until finally they settled on her full, red lips.

‘Think about it,’ Pearl whispered, trailing his hand down her face and slowly pulling at the top of her jacket to reveal her neck. As a small square of tanned flesh became exposed, Stang’s head tilted to one side, eyes transfixed by it as if he were savouring something sweet.

‘Just two more days . . .’ Pearl whispered.

‘Now,’ Stang countered, his voice rising like an imperious child. ‘I want her now!’

Coroni stared wide-eyed as Stang stepped forward, his hand outstretched. She pushed back against Pearl for protection, but only felt the grip of his hand holding her tight.

‘Wait, Vidar,’ said Pearl, his voice breathing across her ear. ‘You only get this at the end. You do your job and complete the mission. Then it’s time for your reward.’

Stang paused, the decision held in the balance. Coroni struggled once more but Pearl dug his fingers viciously into her shoulder blade, making her groan in pain. Stang didn’t seem to register the emotion, his eyes still locked on her lips, while his imagination took hold. He stepped closer.

‘Please,’ Coroni whimpered, eyes trailing across the charred skin of his face with pure disgust. As Stang reached out a hand towards her, Pearl slapped it away. ‘Only at the end!’ he shouted. ‘Otherwise you get nothing!’

There was a moment of absolute silence. Then, slowly, Stang’s massive head tilted down in frustration. Pearl released his grip on Coroni. Throwing off his arm, she half-ran, half-stumbled back to the helicopter.

‘Come on, Vidar, she’s just a distraction,’ Pearl soothed him. ‘Let’s do what we came here to do. Let’s launch the seed.’

It took Stang another thirty minutes to open the borehole and get everything ready. He moved with utter confidence, having practised the assembly over and over again throughout the early-spring months. Soon, the cradle for Pearl’s capsule was ready and winched high above the borehole, pointing directly down into the ice.

Pearl watched, breathing deeply the whole time. He sucked in air through his nose, filling his lungs almost to bursting point. Inside his pocket, his left hand curled around the L-shape of his inhaler, marvelling at how long it had been since he had last used it. Usually, his chest felt unbearably tight and every few minutes he would squirt the cool gas deep into his lungs. But out in Antarctica, things were different. Out here the air was pure and crisp, utterly devoid of the sickness of the world’s cities. It was how air was supposed to be, and the seed was the very first step towards redressing the balance.

Unclipping the sides of the briefcase, he removed an aluminium cylinder. It was smooth and almost entirely unremarkable, except for a vertical slither of glass that ran through its centre. Holding it up to the light, Pearl’s eyes narrowed in on the single dot of red fluid contained within. It was tiny, like the faintest pinprick of blood in suspension. He shook his head, marvelling at how something so small and innocuous could herald nothing less than the dawning of a new era. From such small beginnings he would change the world.

If the tests on the lake went to plan, they would launch the seed in the Pacific in under three months. As the largest and most significant of all the world’s oceans, it would be the perfect place to start.

Pearl carried the capsule across to the borehole, all the while muttering something under his breath. His eyes were wide as he loaded it into the metal casing of the cradle and locked it tight.

‘History,’ he said, resting his fingers lightly on the surface. ‘That’s what this is, history.’

Stang didn’t respond, only pressing the button to activate the winch. A massive roll of steel cable began to uncoil behind them. A few seconds later, the capsule was immersed in the borehole and began to be lowered into the ice. Stang stood stock still, eyes following every metre.

‘How long before it reaches the water?’ asked Pearl.

‘Forty-three minutes.’

Pearl nodded, instinctively checking his own watch. ‘Good. You’ve done well.’

Just as he said the words, they heard the sound of an engine starting. They both turned towards the helicopter but the sound was much further away, echoing across the cliffs towards the old base. Stang immediately swung his rifle off his shoulder and, without averting his eyes, slid back the bolt action and chambered the first round. Stepping past Pearl and shielding him with his own body, he searched for the exact source of the sound, but already he’d guessed it was the whine of the Ski-Doos’ two-stroke engines.

The Englishmen must have somehow escaped.

‘What is it?’ Pearl asked.

Stang’s expression hardened. He didn’t want to admit to any of the previous day’s events. ‘Nothing I can’t handle.’

Pearl’s eyes switched across to the winch and the running cable. ‘What if they go for the seed?’

‘Even if they did, it’d take them more than thirty minutes to drive around the side of the mountain and get here. And then they’d have to get past me.’

‘And if they talk?’

Stang slowly raised his rifle in his hand.

‘There’s nowhere for them to go,’ he said with an air of finality. ‘Trust me, no one will ever know that you were here.’

Pearl looked at him and smiled. Stang was right. There was no way that anyone could interfere with the seed’s launch now and he needed to get back to the runway. The pilots had already contacted him on the helicopter flight over, complaining that the cloud level was dropping fast and they needed to take off as soon as possible. Besides, his visit was officially nothing more than a quick site inspection of GARI, and already so much time had been spent dealing with Stang.

‘I don’t want any mistakes,’ Pearl said. ‘You make certain that no one talks.’