Part 7 (1/2)

'Make it fast, then,' he said. 'I'll get us packed up.'

She scrambled down the slope to the inlet. The wind had risen perceptibly, and the sea had begun to swell rhythmically against the pebble beach with a soft, grinding noise.

She traced the perimeter of the cove, stooping to pick up the water-rounded rocks and run them through her fingers like worry beads. The austere beauty of that spit of stone, protruding from the ice, moved her in a way she found hard to define. She inhaled the perfect air as if she might absorb and hold on to some of the Arctic's essence.

For how many centuries had the sea battered this beach, polis.h.i.+ng those hard stones? It was a lonely place, yet both man and animals had survived here, unique and irreplaceable. Would the Enterprise and others like her really be the death of all this? Having lived on the s.h.i.+p and shared the dreams of the men who guided her, she found that possibility almost unbearably painful. And yet...

'On the double!'

She turned her face inland and felt a stab of sharp, ice-flecked wind lash her cheeks.

'I'm coming!' she shouted. Lowering her head against the wind, she struggled up to Guy through the s.h.i.+fting, falling pebbles.

She found him bent over the radio that was sputtering to life. 'What's up?' she asked, raw-throated from the frozen air.

'Quiet!' he barked, as he flicked on the transmitter switch. 'Are you absolutely sure of that?' he shouted into the speaker.

A disembodied voice crackled over the air. 'I'm sorry, Captain Court, there was no warning on this one. It's just one of those isolated squalls.'

'How long before it blows itself out?'

'Not long... a few hours maybe. Radar shows nothing backing it up. But even a short time puts you-'

'I know,' he said grimly, 'into dark.'

'Right, sir. We think your safest bet is to stay where you are and head back in the morning.'

Sarah's mouth dropped open and she started to protest, but Guy's raised hand stifled her.

'I've taken the liberty of discussing your situation with Captain Price,' the voice went on. 'We understand you're experienced in Arctic survival. I gather you've located the hunting camp and protection's no problem.'

'Right on that-we're well sheltered.'

'There are ample emergency supplies in the snowmobile, of course... we're really sorry about this, Captain.' The man sounded embarra.s.sed.

'It's no one's fault,' muttered Guy, rubbing his hand thoughtfully across his mouth.

'We'll see you in the morning, then, sir.' The radio went dead, leaving nothing but the whine of the wind.

The reality of their situation slammed down on Sarah. 'This is insanity!' she blazed. 'We can't spend the night out here. We'll freeze to death!'

'Nothing so dramatic, my dear,' he retorted. 'We won't be comfortable, but we'll make it.'

'But the visibility's still good-surely we can beat the storm back to camp in less than an hour!'

'Not a chance. A white-out could send us flying over an embankment and leave us bobbing in the sea like a couple of ice cubes.'

Sarah stared at him through lashes that sparkled with clinging snow flakes. 'But we can't spend the night here! Not alone.'

'You don't have any choice, Sarah! If you're worrying about your reputation, don't bother. For all they know, there are a dozen of us down here. You'll recall I neglected to tell them the camp is deserted. Otherwise Tony might come charging down here to police his claim.'

She raised her voice against the hysterical shriek of the wind. 'I don't need you to champion my virtue, thank you!'

Guy snorted derisively. 'Look,' he said, sounding very close to exasperation, 'I'm just as annoyed as you are at this. .h.i.tch. But I suggest that for tonight, at least, we forget personal animosities and turn our attention to saving our necks!'

With the snowmobile tucked into the shelter of the igloo, a tarpaulin roped securely over it, Guy and Sarah struggled against the storm with their precious bundles of supplies. The blizzard was descending on them with terrifying speed. The igloo, which had seemed within arm's reach only moments before, now receded into the swirling snow.

Enclosed in a world of total whiteness, Sarah stumbled blindly down some crude ice steps. Guy yanked back the flap of skin that covered the entrance tunnel. Roughly, his hand found the top of her head and pressed her to her knees. The wind and thick snow vanished, but were replaced by a silence and darkness that were equally disconcerting.

'I can't see!' she protested, inching haltingly along the constricting tunnel.

'Just feel ahead of you!' he ordered from behind her. 'It will open out in another foot or two.'

Cautiously she did as she was told, suppressing a nibble of horror at the thought of what might lie ahead in the blackness. She heard fumbling, tinny noises and the striking of a match. A pale orange flame flared and grew, bathing them in golden light and casting tall, wildly flickering shadows on the dome above them.

'What do you think?' said Guy, setting the lantern down on a wide, raised platform in front of them.

Sarah pushed back her hood and brushed snow from her bangs. 'It's bigger than I thought it would be. And more intricate.'

'Igloos are nothing short of ingenious,' he said, rummaging through a dunnage bag. 'Those ice blocks actually form an inward spiral. And this pit that we're in now traps the cold air and keeps it away from the sleeping platform. A more permanent shelter would have glazed walls, ice windows, carved storage areas, and... well, that's a bonus!'

He pointed to a pile of animal skins lining the sleeping area. 'They'll insulate us from below.'

Sarah regarded them unenthusiastically. She said, suddenly very sober, 'Is there any chance- really-that we could freeze here tonight? I want you to tell me the truth. I promise I won't get hysterical or cry.'

'None,' he replied firmly. 'And I'm not saying that just to be easy on you. We'll be uncomfortable, we'll have to use common sense. But our clothes and sleeping bags are designed for the Arctic. We've got warm food, and each other. Trust me.'

The temperature inside their shelter was plummeting rapidly and a bone-deep cold was beginning to seep through their clothes. Quickly they finished unpacking their supplies. Sarah sat back on her heels and regarded all that stood between them and an icy death: two sleeping bags, a first aid kit, tiny packets of freeze-dried food, a minute solid fuel stove.

'Oh, Guy,' she said wistfully, 'just a few miles back there lies warmth and clean sheets and the Enterprise's cooks making lovely things for dinner! It's such a short distance... we could even walk it if it weren't for the storm.'

Guy was priming the stove, heating them sweet tea to keep up their resistance to the cold. 'I have something else that will cheer you up,' he said. 'Something not on the official list of survival supplies.' He dug into an inside picket and produced a silver flask. 'Good French brandy,' he announced. He poured some into the cap and handed it to her. 'Drink it,' he ordered. 'It'll do you good.'

Sarah sipped and felt the soft warmth spread through her. Revived a little, she propped one of the rolled sleeping bags against the wall and leaned back. What an odd place for the two of them to end up in! she thought, sipping more brandy. Trapped in that pale capsule of dancing amber light, half buried beneath drifting, obliterating snow.

What were the people back at the s.h.i.+p thinking now? Did they know it was like this? She stole a cautious look at Guy as he took a long drink from the flask. His chin was tipped, exposing the underside of his jaw and the pulse point there. Perhaps it was just the brandy, but she felt that suddenly a peace had fallen over them.

'It's funny, isn't it?' she said dreamily. 'Here we are, horrified at the thought of spending a single night in the north, even though people have survived under these conditions, without all our equipment, for hundreds of years.'

He leaned back beside her, long legs out-stretched, his ankles crossed casually. 'You're right there. It's not the climate that poses the threat to the native culture.'

'I guess you mean the Enterprise does,' she replied. 'You know, since you're a part owner of Freeland s.h.i.+pping, I find your hostility towards the s.h.i.+p incomprehensible. What do you hope to gain, undermining her the way you do?'

'Is that what you really think, or are you parroting things you hear Tony say?'

'I form my own opinions, Guy. And I'd have to be blind not to see your aversion.'

'Everything I do on the Enterprise, I do for the good of the entire company. I wish I could say the same for Tony. He couldn't wait to thrust Freeland s.h.i.+pping into the twenty-first century, whether it was ready for it or not.'

The brandy was beginning to unleash Sarah from prudent restraint. 'Rumour has it,' she said, 'that you and Tony fought it out in the boardroom over the L.N.G. contract and that you lost.'