The Immortal Harvest (3 page)

Bob grabbed the muesli bar and tore open the wrapper. Matt could tell by his moans of pleasure that Bob relished the crunch of the muesli in his mouth.

“I don’t suppose you’d have an unfrozen beer in that pocket of yours would you mate?” Bob asked in a hopeful tone.

“Sorry Bob. You’ll have to wait until we get back to Byrd. Now get some sleep, we’ve got a long trek tomorrow. We are going to have to get that sample and get back to Byrd station as soon as possible. We’ll perish quickly without a sufficient calorie intake. We may have to eat that seal.”

“Yeah, why not, the bastard tried to eat me.” Bob said and then laughed briefly before wincing as the pain of his injury bypassed the numbing effects of the Codeine.

“Anyway I am feeling a bit tired, make sure you stay awake and give me a shove when you want me to take a turn at watch.”

Matt nodded knowingly as he watched Bob crawl into his tent and secure the zip.

*     *     *

A few hours had passed slowly as Matt sat on his sled and huddled against the biting wind. Unfortunately, as relatively comfortable as he felt, he knew that he needed to be moving to guard against giving in to the urge to sleep.

He stood up and started pacing. He shook each leg as he took a step to ensure proper blood flow.

He windmilled his arms to keep the blood flowing to his fingers. As he walked, he munched on a muesli bar and peered intently into the gloom of the blizzard.

The never ending pale Antarctic summer sky was punctuated intermittently by the clouds that raced along, dumping their payload of snow onto the stark bleak monotonous terrain. Gradually the howling wind began to abate.

Matt checked his watched. Over three hours had elapsed. Even though he knew he was beginning to succumb to the somnambulant affect of the cold, he decided that they needed to get going. He had a disturbing sense of dread that he just couldn’t shake.

I’m going to have to wake Bob early
, he thought as he strode towards Bob’s tent. He opened the tent zip and shook his leg. Bob moaned.

“What the fuck do you want?” he slurred in a post slumber voice. “I was dreaming I was lying on a tropical Island with two beautiful women.”

“Come on Bob, get up. The blizzard has abated. We should get to Vinson Massif Mountain before the next blizzard gets here.”

“Don’t you want to get some shuteye?” Bob asked as he struggled to extricate himself from the tent.

“As nice as that sounds, I think it best if we get moving, we have no snowmobiles or rations. The longer we stay out in this weather, the greater the risk that we won’t get back” Matt said as he began packing his tent away “In other words, the quicker we get there, the quicker we can get back to Byrd Station for some food.”

“Yeah mate, and don’t forget the beer,” Bob said as he finally shuffled out of his tent and began to pack it away. Matt laughed at the comment.

After checking the GPS co-ordinates, the two men continued the trek to Vinson Massif Mountain. They walked for quite some time before Bob broke the silence.

“So what do you think we’ll find when we get there?”

Matt paused for a moment before answering Bob’s question.

“I’m hoping that there are a number of mineral veins contained within the mountain. I still don’t believe that there is a naturally occurring Beryllium, Iridium, Cobalt and titanium compound.”

“I’ve been thinking about that. Those minerals are pretty rare on Earth but they are fairly common in space.”

Matt stopped and looked at his friend. “Do you think that there is a meteorite buried beneath that mountain?”

“Well I’m not big on my knowledge of space stuff but that would explain a lot.”

“Yes that’s true. But I have not seen any record of such a large meteor hitting the Earth near one of its poles. Surely a meteorite of that size would have been discovered long before this.”

“That’s not entirely correct. This area we are in is not under any particular nations’ jurisdiction. The rock could have remained undetected for quite awhile. We could be on the verge of making a monumental discovery.”

“If you are correct we will call it the Rojerson – Webb meteorite.”

“Is that right? Why is my name last? It’s my idea.”

“Ok if there is a meteorite in Vinson Massif Mountain we’ll call it the Bob Webb meteor. How does that sound?’

“I like it. Hey speak of the devil, there it is,” Bob pointed out towards the range of mountains that loomed ahead of them.

“That looks like the Sentinel Mountain range. Vinson Massif Mountain is the highest and most southern mountain. That sucker is over sixteen thousand feet high.” Matt said and he frowned when he noticed how stiffly Bob was walking. He smiled and said as cheerfully as he could. “I hope you’re feeling strong.”

“You’re forgetting that I’m an Aussie mate. I’m up for the challenge, let’s do it – oh and by the way, when are you yanks going metric like the rest of the world?” Bob said as he laughed and then pushed on towards the mountain.

Matt smiled but refrained from commenting as he noticed by the way Bob limped, his leg must have been aching from the wound caused by the leopard seal.

He frowned as he realised that it was going to be hard for him to climb. It would be much more difficult for Bob. He pushed the thought out of his mind and focussed on getting to the base of the mountain.

Despite the arduousness of the task, within an hour they had reached the base of the mountain. They looked upwards in awe of the spectacle of the mountain that towered into the Antarctic sky. Its slopes covered in snow, huge blocks of ice and giant black boulders. Thin wispy streaks of cloud caressed the slopes like lovers reluctant to leave their earthly embrace.

Matt gestured to Bob.

“We’ll set up a base camp here. You can start unpacking the sled while I try to contact Byrd.”

Matt grabbed the radio and moved away from the sled and stared out over the expanse between them and the start of the base of the imposing mountain. He could see the streaks of blue and green smear the sky as the cosmic cloud of ions fought their timeless battle against the magnetic lines of flux above the Earth’s poles.

He attempted to contact Byrd station from several different vantage points. His frustration was evident when he finally trudged back towards the flimsy structures that Bob had erected. He reached the sled and jammed the radio back into its container and then turned to his friend who was stuffing the sleeping bags into the tents.

“I don’t get it. The storm has passed, the sky is clear and I still can’t reach them,” he said with disappointment in his voice.

“Don’t worry about it mate. It’s probably just interference from old Aurora Australis. How about we try again when we’re higher up that bloody mountain, maybe the reception will be better.”

“You’re probably right. Besides, Byrd station will be monitoring how long we’ve been away. They’ll try to contact us and if they fail they’ll send out a rescue team. We’ll stick to our plan and make the climb in the morning. Any luck we’ll be back in nice warm beds before they even miss us.” Matt said as he began clambering into the tiny tent.

He suddenly felt the effects of the adrenalin wearing off. His energy levels were dropping. He needed sleep.

“Listen Bob, I really need a rest. Would you mind taking the first watch?”

“Sure, no worries mate. Have a kip and I’ll give you a nudge in a couple of hours. I’ll just sit here and enjoy the light show.”

*     *     *

The low growling rumbling noise was the first thing to filter through Matts mind as it struggled against the sleep toxins that were attempting to pull him back into unconsciousness. Suddenly his whole body rose up from the solid sheet of ice below him.

Sensing the danger, he quickly left the tent and rushed to the sled. His vision was blurry from the effects of the shaking. He knew that they were somehow being affected by a subterranean event, an earthquake, or to be more precise, an Ice quake.

Impossible!

The rational Geologist in his mind knew that apart from the area around Mount Erebus, the Antarctic region was the most geologically stable region on the planet with millions of tons of ice helping to subdue the ground below them.

Nevertheless, He rushed over towards the slumped, sleeping form of his friend.

“Quick Bob, help me! We need to get ourselves off this ice sheet and get onto solid ground as quick as we can.”

Matt lashed the reins of his sled around his waist and began heaving the sled in the direction of the mountain. He froze when he heard the deafening crack as the sheet of ice on which they were standing began to split apart.

He heard Bob’s sudden yelp as the crack appeared suddenly below his feet and widened a split second later to a yawning chasm. Bob’s feet disappeared from under him as he dropped into the chasm, his sled plummeting after him.

Matt looked on in anguish as his friend disappeared. He was unaware that Bob’s split second thinking had enabled him dodge the sled and grasp an outcrop of ice.

Matt heard his scream of pain however, as the weight of Bob’s sled, lashed similarly around his waist, tugged inexorably towards the abyss below him, threatening to drag him along with it. Matt dove for the crack just as Bob’s fingers were slipping from the outcrop.

*     *     *

As Matt wiped the ice from the GPS screen he thought of Bob’s final words again and an overwhelming sense of anguish tormented him as he couldn’t help thinking that he should have saved his friend.

Through bleary eyes and lashing snow he saw that according to the GPS he should have been standing on this supposed meteorite. He rubbed the ice from his goggles and tapped the GPS screen again. He began to second guess himself.

Did I input the correct co-ordinates?

Through frustration, cold and sheer exhaustion he had pushed himself to the extreme to scale Vinson Massif. Now he stared in disbelief at his GPS. He growled as he threw the device.

He had reached the end of his endurance. He turned and strode back to his sled and slumped himself down on the assorted detritus of geological equipment and trekking gear.

He looked over and saw the edge of the GPS sticking out of a snow drift and realised that it would be foolish to destroy the only item of equipment he would need to get him back to the safety of Byrd Station. He rose slowly and moved to pick it up.

The low hum was imperceptible at first. His first thought was that he was imagining it. The noise slowly grew in amplitude and eventually it dominated the prevailing noise of the blizzard.

Matt tapped the GPS and then froze as he heard the rising crescendo of sound. Confused he looked around in all directions from where he stood. He could see the layer of cloud and fog which surrounded him.

The noise had increased to the point that he could actually feel the pulsating frequency penetrate his body, churning his gut from inside, intensifying his hunger pangs. He clutched his stomach and bent over in intense pain as the noise continued to grow even louder.

He squeezed his eyes shut and collapsed in agony and rolled around on the ground. As he rolled onto his back, he opened his eyes and screamed.

Seemingly only metres above him loomed a massive black object. It was round in shape and seemed to shimmer as if it was appearing and then fading in rapid succession. Matt froze in absolute terror.

His eyes grew wide and he felt that his heart was about to explode out of his chest. He tried to scream again but nothing but blood bubbled out of his mouth. He suddenly felt as if his skin was on fire.

An intense heat tore through his entire body. He felt his blood begin to boil as pustules ruptured on his face. Suddenly a horrifying and ultimately final thought dawned on him as his internal organs ruptured and his bowels released.

Radiation!

Seconds later, the massive black object disappeared completely.

From the sled the unmistakable crackling of the radio could be heard as a voice filtered through the blizzard.

“This is Byrd Station. Matt. Bob are you there? Over!”

“You disgusting whore. Get out of my house and take your bastard with you”

These were the last words spat at Sylvan Peters by her Mother.

She recalled vividly, the acrid stench of booze, vomit and nicotine. The cold vacant blood shot eyes. The accusatory bony finger pointed like a talon. Her booze ravaged body shaking uncontrollably as she screamed the words.

In her rage, her Mother completely ignored the vile bloated body of the rapist who lolled on the filthy sweat and urine stained sheets. His now flaccid penis glistened with blood from Sylvan’s defiled body.

In the eyes of her pathetic alcoholic Mother, her Step-Father could do no wrong.

He raped me. Can’t you see that?

Sylvan wanted to scream. The words formed on her lips but dissipated when she realised the futility. She turned her back on her Mother and began to sob uncontrollably.

Her Mother drained the last dregs from the bottle she was holding and threw it at the wall. The bottle instantly exploded into fragments splattering the grime covered wall in liquor.

“I said get the fuck out of my house. I never want to see you again and take your bastard with you.”

She screamed the words and glared at the trembling heap that once was her little girl.

Doubled over in pain, Sylvan stumbled from the room. She ran the short distance down the hallway and burst into her son’s room.

He was curled up on his bed in the foetal position. He was clutching tightly to a pillow. His breathing was laboured. His crystal blue eyes darted in panic through a stray strand of light blonde hair. He silently pleaded with his Mother for help.

Sylvan grabbed his puffer and held it to his lips and watched as he greedily inhaled the drug. She breathed a sigh of relief as the Salbutamol infused into his bloodstream and instantly relaxed his lungs. She waited for him to finish coughing, before clutching him tightly to her chest, helping him to relax.

“Come on Justen, I have to get you out of here.” Sylvan said as she lifted him from the bed. He coughed violently again as he threw his arms around Sylvan’s neck. She rushed from his room and made her way towards the back door of the slum.