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Page 26


  So, if their foreseeable future was on this undeniably comfortable ship, sharing one of its comfortable cabins and one of its comfortable beds, what else should they now consider sharing? In particular, should they share their honest feelings for each other?

  Resolving this was more difficult than resolving the issue of staying with or leaving the ship. After all, despite their now unavoidably intimate relationship, officially they were still ‘just friends’. No longer the sort of friends they’d been back at Mount Pleasant, where their friendship had been that of two companions, but now the sort of friends who had a genuine affection for each other and a closeness that neither of them had experienced before. And how could it be otherwise? Sleeping under the same duvet and coming under fire during the same operation simply made that inevitable. And there was more. To start with, there was their consoling each other after their initial rejection as ‘deserters’. Then the small matter of Gill saving Stuart’s life. And the not-quite-so-dramatic matter of Stuart being able to reassure Gill that she was not some sort of gung-ho assassin, but instead a brave and skilful defender of lives. Captain José hadn’t been the first to explain to her that what she had done was nothing to be ashamed of, but everything to be proud of.

  Well, by the time the Sea Sprite had reached its mooring off Danco Island, Stuart had finally stopped hopping between thoughts, and had instead come to a definitive decision – concerning his relationship with Gill. And what he had decided would in no way be easy, because it would so much involve the deconstruction of a former relationship before he could properly establish its replacement. But he did manage it, helped to no small degree by Gill’s reaction to his proposals. Indeed, by her eagerness to embrace and even ‘enhance’ his proposals. And all such relationships do, of course, involve two people…

  So, when they finally retired to their bed, they were definitely no longer just friends, and within minutes they were ‘officially’ lovers. Not just in the physical sense, but undeniably in the emotional sense as well.

  Despite a very uncertain future, and despite whatever trials they might both face in the morning, Stuart, as he was falling asleep, realised he had never felt happier. And very rarely more surprised…

  thirty-two

  Alex had seen Danco Island and its surroundings the previous day – as the Sea Sprite had arrived there in the late afternoon. But now, in the early-morning light, it was a different place. Overnight, someone had bleached all the snow and someone else had turned up the intensity of the sky. This was now bluer than ever, and a strip of it had even been taken down and laid across the surface of the mirror-smooth sea. So, the sky and the sea were now indistinguishable, and both so vividly blue that Alex doubted what he was seeing. Could anything this natural be so ‘technicolour’? And so undeniably striking?

  This question was debated with Patrick and Morag over breakfast. (It had now become difficult for Alex and Debbie to avoid them.) And the conclusion of the debate was that the blues and whites were vibrant bordering on the vivid because the atmosphere here was so clear. It was not adulterated with all the dust, pollen, ash and particulates found in the rest of the world. And fortunately, it was still not polluted with spores…

  This aspect of the conclusion then led on to a discussion about the forthcoming zodiac venture, and the revelation by Patrick that he was confident that this one would be a little more straightforward than those already conducted. And that, as a result, he was quite looking forward to being involved once again. Alex smiled in response to this announcement, but did not admit to having similar thoughts himself. Because he didn’t. He still thought that, as with Deception Island and Cierva Cove, anything might happen, and none of it might be good.

  Very soon, he would discover whether his concerns were valid. Because the Sea Sprite was already on its way to Paradise Bay, and only an hour after breakfast there had been a call to the zodiac crews to again gather in the principal lounge to collect their numbered arm bands in readiness to board their vessels. Magical scenery had surrounded the Sea Sprite all morning, but when it arrived at its destination, the magic score edged up just a few more points. Paradise Bay, as its name might suggest, was something of a pinnacle in terms of Antarctic beauty; a place of azure sky and azure sea, and with such brilliant icing-sugar land separating that sky and sea that it again made Alex doubt what he was seeing. Only the incongruous Argentinian base, just five hundred metres away, managed to extinguish this doubt and replace it with another strong dose of trepidation. There was no yacht there and no ship anywhere near, but would the base itself be occupied?

  Well, it didn’t appear to be. It was just another collection of red huts (the largest of which had a roof rendered as a blue-and-white Argentinian flag), and it seemed to be entirely deserted. It sat at the foot of a bluff – at least, that’s what Roy called it. He was standing next to Alex on the Sea Sprite’s landing stage, and he advised his companion that, as far as he could recall, a bluff was a headland with a broad, steep face. And that was certainly the nature of the mass of rock that formed the backdrop to this Argentinian blot on the landscape; a snow-covered chunk of the Antarctic continent that rose above the base to a height of maybe two hundred metres.

  The name of the base, spelled out in prominent letters on the side of that largest of the huts, was ‘Brown’. This was not a description of the brownish hue of the huts’ red paint, but a recognition of an Argentinian hero by the name of Almirante – or Admiral – Brown. Alex knew this because his walking-Wikipedia friend had just told him. He seemed to know everything. And he definitely knew that Almirante William Brown was an Irish-born Argentinian who was regarded as the father of the Argentinian Navy. And he had earned this title through a string of heroic actions back in the nineteenth century that had led to not only this small outpost being named after him, but also a class of destroyers in the Argentinian Navy, a few other Argentinian warships, a national college, four football teams, and even an Admiral Brown Cup, which, fittingly, was awarded to the winners of rugby matches between Argentina and Ireland. Before rugby, along with all other sports, had become extinct. Such were the rewards, Roy suggested, for heroes of a country that had few heroes from which to choose…

  With that rather barbed conclusion to Roy’s history lesson delivered, it was time for Alex and Patrick to join Joshua in zodiac number three, and for Roy to settle himself with his mates into zodiac number five. And within no time at all, these and three other zodiacs were on their way to the Almirante Brown base, with, as before, the other two held in reserve at the Sea Sprite’s stern.

  Alex realised that he was beginning to feel somewhat excited rather than embarrassingly nervous. This was in part due to what would be the reassuring proximity of the Sea Sprite to any ‘action’ that might arise, and in part to the likelihood that there would be no ‘action’ whatsoever. The research station still looked completely unoccupied. No window coverings were open, no doors were ajar, and there was not the slightest hint of the slightest movement within. In fact, he now thought that he could already make out that the landing stage just below the base was covered in pristine un-trodden snow. Although, of course, that wasn’t conclusive evidence of there being no residents, he told himself. If there were no vessels in sight, other than the Sea Sprite team’s own, it would not be surprising that there were no footprints on the landing stage. And it was still possible that the station’s complement of fit and aggressive Argentinians had been deposited here some time ago, and were now hunkered down in their sealed redoubts, waiting to spring out and deal mercilessly with any intruders…

  His nervousness was returning. He needed to tell himself that he was being stupid. And that was what he did. And so convincingly that, by the time Stuart and Gill and their respective crews had secured their zodiacs to the landing stage, he felt nervous no more. And when they approached the first of the red huts and Stuart banged on its door to announce their arrival, Alex would have been flabbergasted
if anyone had opened it and greeted the newcomers with a cheery ‘Buen día’.

  It was indeed as deserted as the station in Cierva Cove, but, because the Sea Sprite was so close to hand, a lot easier to relieve of its provisions. It did take some time and some effort (the access to the station from its landing stage involved a lot of steps), but by mid-afternoon, Almirante Brown had lost all his valuable stores and, with that earlier theft from Cierva Cove, the Sea Sprite was now packed with more food than it had been when it left Stanley. Not the same sort of food granted, but food that would still allow all those aboard to be fed for the duration of the planned stay in the Antarctic.

  Captain José was very happy. He said so in a brief tannoy address in the late afternoon. And he also made a point of thanking all those who had once again been brave enough to make an unannounced visit to an Argentinian ‘warehouse’, and who, on this occasion, had fortunately not had to resort to violence. Although, as he stressed, he was entirely confident that they would have done whatever was required of them in this respect, had the need arisen.

  When the good captain signed off, Alex felt that the rescheduled voyage of the Sea Sprite had come to some sort of full stop. The ship was now where it would probably stay for the next four or five weeks, and it was stocked with all that was needed to do this. It was also full of people who had reconciled themselves to this immediate future, and who were probably thinking – as Alex was – that they could now relax. At least to a degree. Fate might still present them with all sorts of unpleasant surprises, but for now the chores had been completed – without further incident – and they could all figuratively put their feet up. Even if some of them might need the company of their friends over dinner to remove any last vestiges of concern.

  The company on hand this evening was ideal. On a table for seven were the usual gang of five – and Stuart and Gill. And it was Gill who opened the conversation by asking her older table companions for their views on violence. Maybe, thought Alex, she still had a few demons to chase away; demons who had appeared when she’d made use of her gun. And demons who were still loitering in the middle distance despite all the assurances she’d received that what she had done had been both necessary and proper.

  Roy was the first to respond to this question by suggesting that all normal people had an aversion to violence, but at the same time very few would rule out its use when it was unavoidable; when violence had to be met with violence. And rather than using Gill’s own actions at Cierva Cove to illustrate his point, he told her of his earlier concerns about violence breaking out on the Sea Sprite, and how he and the other four oldies at the table had made a pact to watch each other’s backs. Implicit in this, he maintained, was a willingness on the part of each of them to perpetrate violence on others if this was the only way to ‘watch a back’. And that could even have meant killing someone, some formerly polite old cove who was now wielding a fire axe in an attempt to do some killing himself.

  The other oldies nodded their agreement, and, like Alex, they displayed no anger or alarm at Roy’s revelation of their ‘secret’ pact. And why would they? After all, the likelihood of insurrection breaking out on the Sea Sprite was now so low as to be essentially non-existent. What all those aboard had witnessed over the past few days had in some way bound them all together, and everybody knew this, passengers and crew alike. So, any move to form a clique or to challenge the status quo would have been regarded not just as an affront, but also as a breach of trust. That wasn’t to say that mayhem might not still break out if the ship’s company ended up starving, but that would not be the sort of internecine situation that had led Roy to make his original mutual protection proposal. It would be… well, just a messy end, in which survival would probably not be an attractive proposition. And, in any event, starvation now seemed a very remote possibility indeed. Thanks to Captain José’s actions and those of some unknown Argentinian quartermasters, there was on board, in Roy’s own words, enough food to sink a ship.

  Gill seemed to welcome Roy’s analysis of people’s attitude to violence, and she must have been further gratified to hear Elaine stating that her own views on violence were exactly in accord with those of Roy, and that she had not been in the slightest bit appalled by what had happened at Cierva Cove. As with most people on this ship, she explained, her experience of violence had previously been restricted to what she had seen on a screen. But these were different times now, where the extraordinary had become the ordinary. And if someone shot at you or your friends, it was the most normal – and justified – thing to fire back at them. With the intention of delivering what she referred to as ‘a Clint Eastwood conclusion’ to the exchange. No winging them with a view to bringing them to a ‘justice system’, but a bullet planted wherever was best to bring them to an immediate full stop instead.

  Alex was fascinated to learn how his closest shipmates were applying their views on the use of violence to the situation in which they now found themselves, and it made him wonder how they now viewed their predicament in more general terms. Were Derek and Roy still as indifferent to the outcome of their venture as before? And what of Stuart and Gill? Surely they had a rather different outlook to those of the more-than-middle-aged at the table. And this latter question he would now try to resolve. And he would do this by asking Stuart and Gill how they currently viewed their long-term future.

  It was Stuart who responded to Alex, and his response was a revelation.

  ‘Well, I suspect that – ultimately – Gill and I will end up leading a somewhat solitary life,’ he announced. ‘I mean, forgive me for saying this, but we do plan to get to your age. Which means…’

  ‘…you won’t be sharing a table with us in twenty years’ time,’ finished Debbie.

  ‘Errh… precisely.’

  ‘Aren’t you forgetting the crew,’ interjected Roy, ‘and maybe even some of the guys from Rothera? They’ll still be around…’

  ‘You’re right,’ agreed Stuart. ‘But by then I doubt Gill and I will…’

  ‘Why not?’ asked Roy.

  ‘Well, we’d be only too happy to help out in setting up a new community – you know, some sort of base where you and all the other guys on this ship could live out your lives. But… well, frankly, I’m not so sure we’d be too keen to take part in any sort of new world order…’

  ‘You mean you wouldn’t want kids?’ suggested Elaine.

  ‘Spot on,’ confirmed Stuart. ‘We think that bringing kids into what might remain of the world might not be too good an idea. And well… we’re not exactly huge fans of our own species either. I mean, look what it’s done…’

  Here he hesitated before going on.

  ‘So, I don’t know how welcome we might be in any sort of community that thought otherwise. We might soon be regarded as outsiders. And even if we weren’t, we might still feel just a little uncomfortable…’

  ‘So?’ encouraged Alex.

  ‘Well, I can’t say for sure…’

  And here Stuart looked at Gill before he continued.

  ‘…but I suspect we might want to make off on our own. You know, maybe take a yacht and maybe even make a life on that. Roaming around the world until we couldn’t roam any more…’

  Here, he hesitated again, and then rushed out an embarrassed apology.

  ‘Hey, don’t get me wrong. We both consider ourselves really lucky to be where we are. With you and all the other guys on this ship. And we’ll do anything that’s needed to… you know…’

  ‘I think you’ve already proved that,’ remarked Alex.

  ‘Yeah, well, you asked about the future. And I was just being honest. And it doesn’t mean that we won’t still be eating together in…’

  ‘Leave it at “ten years’ time”,’ interjected Roy. ‘Some of us might just make it that far.’

  This is when the other four oldies at the table started to laugh, and when Stuart was relieved of a
ny remaining embarrassment. Indeed, it wasn’t long before he – and Gill – were relieved of any guilt for holding such an unenthusiastic view of the future. First it was Derek, assisted by Elaine, confirming that both of them were very much fatalistic about the future, and that neither of them would get too concerned about any eventual outcome. Their investment in this future was very limited, they said, and whether humanity survived or not was a matter of near-total indifference.

  Roy wasn’t that indifferent. He said so. However, he also said, to nobody’s great surprise, that his interest in the future was very much that of an impartial observer. His major concern, he admitted, was that he might not be around to witness the final outcome: the successful rebirth of humanity or its total demise. And what a book it would make! With him as its author…

  Eventually, it was time for Alex to reveal his attitude to the future, and he did this by asking Debbie to act as their joint spokesperson, having first made it clear that, as with Stuart and Gill and Derek and Elaine, he and his wife shared exactly the same views. It took her only a little time to do this, because it merely entailed telling the others at the table that their outlook involved combining fatalism with a little dash of hope and more than a little dash of regret. Their fatalism, she explained, bordered on the indifference to the future of humanity as already expressed by the others. The dash of hope was for a good, peaceful outcome for them all, and particularly for the younger people on the Sea Sprite and for all the ‘youngsters’ in those Antarctic research stations. And the regret was that, without a future generation of humans, there would be no more individuals of the sort they had known as friends, a handful of whom were sitting at this table right now.