The Pole of Inaccessibility

  ***

  Thumper admired his creativity in arranging the drums in a circular fashion, so that with the burning flares, from a short way off, they looked like candles on a cake.

  “Make a wish,” he said to himself. Just then, the first one exploded.

  The shock wave knocked him from his feet. The second one singed his eyebrows off and left his parka blackened and smoldering. He crawled away on all fours like a crab, until he was behind an outcropping that shielded him from the growing conflagration.

  “Whew-hoo!” he said, laughing. “That’s pretty fun.”

  When he was collected enough to move, he went to where he had stashed his equipment, skis and ice-climbing gear, and began to make his escape. There were a series of crevasses nearby, up the ridge and along a snowfield, where he had made his camp. It was nearly hidden from view, the entrance into the crevasse, and a short way down was a ledge which was enlarged by his having carved out a half dome. There was a bottomless latrine for his convenience, and the tent fit perfectly into the enclosure. It was only a matter of fuel and supplies, other than that he figured he could survive until winter. He hadn’t thought any further than that.

  It never occurred to him that he could be caught in his hideaway. He watched the bumbling of the Navy and the scientists in McMurdo, and assumed they were all completely inept compared to his skills in the wild. What he hadn’t taken into account was, although the Navy appeared like any other ineffective government agency in their capacity of supporting the program, they were in fact still the Navy, and they were exceptionally well equipped to deal with the type of problem he had just thrown at them. Before he could slip down the rope to his camp he was surrounded by snowmobiles with a Coast Guard helicopter hovering overhead.

  The Antarctic Treaty forbade weapons on the continent, and there were no implements to bind a prisoner with either. No one had ever been taken prisoner before. Since Thumper fought with his would-be captors, and gave the impression that he had no intention of surrendering in that fight, he was subdued by wrapping his ankles and wrists in duct tape. When he continued his resistance by hurling insults from his only remaining weapon, they taped over his mouth as well. It was in this condition that he was delivered to the Chalet.

  “Where are they?” The Captain asked beginning his interrogation.

  “Where’s who?” Thumper asked, smiling.

  “I’ll tell you what,” the Captain said, smiling too. “Let’s dispense with the bullshit. We both know who, and what you are, and what’s going to happen to you now. I’d think you’d just love to have the biggest soapbox on the planet to scream your story from. I don’t give a crap about that. Go ahead. But your story can only grow bigger by giving us the Russian. There’s no way to get him out of here, you know that. Let him go before he gets himself killed.”

  Thumper thought quickly. He was more than a little miffed that all the Captain wanted to talk about was Sokolov. He thought that he’d earned a pretty big spot on the enemies shit-list, only to find that he was being treated like a common nuisance, and one who was supposed to turn stool pigeon, no less. Now wasn’t that just perfect. Not only did he find himself in league with a bunch of morons, now the enemy couldn’t even be bothered to know that he represented a vital threat to their earth killing policies. That’s just great.

  He looked at the Captain and thought it over. If his so-called allies didn’t really care, and the target of his hatred didn’t really care, why the hell should he? What happened to Frodo was of no consequence to him, and seeing the girls finding themselves ensnared along with that airhead pilot could only be a bonus. And he really didn’t have any idea what happened to Sokolov. While he had no reason to care one way or the other about Sokolov, he had nothing against him either, which was a lot more than he could say for everyone else of his Antarctic acquaintance. He knew one thing, though. Sokolov wasn’t going to Terra Nova, or he would already be there, along with the Aussie and the girls. ‘Why not’, he wondered. Why not cut the guy some slack?

  “They’re at Terra Nova,” he confessed.

  “Terra Nova?” the Captain replied. “What the hell kind of crap is that? You’re here, they’re all here.”

  “I’m the only one here. The only reason they came was to dump me. I guess my sparkling personality put them off. Bastards threw me out.”

  “Well, isn’t that just a frickin’ shame. Terra Nova, huh? For?”

  “Gas, then out. May already be out. Wouldn’t that just be a frickin’ shame?”

  Thumper watched the Captain pondering his words, and wondered if he believed a one of them. Probably not. But then, Thumper wondered, since no one took the effort to care about anything else anymore, he probably shouldn’t lose too much sleep about this either.