The Cold Beneath Page 11

  Lightbridge gave a loud sigh before he said, “I was hoping you would agree, because I too feel such an attempt is needed. Although I have faith in our watchdogs, I worry they will reach us far too late for a sensible rescue.”

  While I couldn’t argue with that suggestion, it did return me to my original concern. “Speaking of watchdogs, I thought our mission was of the utmost secrecy. And here we have been tracked like criminals in our passage to the north.”

  “It was all for safety’s sake—” Lightbridge started.

  But I was having none of that. “I don’t think so. I get the feeling I am not being told the whole story. A story that, I should add, may have kept me from signing on in the first place had I heard it before you lured me to your diabolical estate with promises of easy fame and fortune.”

  “Now, Philip, there’s no call for all of that.”

  “No call?” My indignation was most righteous. I was furious at the idea of having something so important kept from me. “You’ve had a second party tracking us this whole time while carrying on as if we were pioneers in the wilderness. Not that I’m complaining. I always believe in the prudence of a safety net, but if the Fancy was, you will recall saying ‘as sound as a pound,’ then why all of the fuss?”

  The men exchanged furtive glances.

  “It was my idea, lad,” Albert confessed. “I wouldn’t agree to his venture unless he promised me a backup plan.”

  I sensed an undertow to his confession. “What’s wrong with the ship?”

  “Philip,” Lightbridge snapped. “You’re as trusting as a rabid raccoon. There is nothing wrong with the Fancy. Even now, broken and at the mercy of the elements, she is still leagues above any attempt in flight known to mankind.”

  “But,” Albert added as he sat up on the edge of the bed.

  “Bert,” Lightbridge warned.

  Albert chewed his lower lip, as if the knowledge weighed upon his conscience. “The engine, while sound in design, bears a minor flaw.”

  Lightbridge grunted and turned his swiveling chair away in disgust.

  Albert pressed on. “I had to redesign the engine to account for the altitude changes of the ship. As well as motion caused by flight. Stoking boilers in midair was something never attempted before.”

  “Sounds like a small task for a man of your capabilities,” I said.

  “Yes, well … be that as it may, the new boilers were a bit of a rush job.”

  “How rushed?”

  “I designed them in a few weeks. They were built in a few days.”

  I was impressed. That was a scant amount of time to piece together a world-class engine. “I imagine the design flaw is a result of this rush?”

  Albert nodded. “The boilers are equipped with a dampening system to constrain the effects of a boil-over. As you well know, a boil-over could result in anything from ruining the single boiler to triggering a chain reaction that would result in a blowout killing all of the boilers at the same time. On the whole they are reliable, but, on occasion, they didn’t quite meet expectations.”

  “How often is ‘on occasion’?”

  “Given time, I could have worked out the kinks—”

  “How often?”

  Albert paused again, looking to the floor before he mumbled his answer.

  “Pardon me?” I asked.

  The man looked up, facing me square in the eye as he said, “In the event of forced boil-over conditions, the dampers failed field testing almost forty percent of the time.”

  Geraldine gasped, covering her mouth with her small hands.

  “Forty percent!” I shouted. “Are you mad?”

  Albert scrambled to explain himself. “The chances for boil-over at all were still so very small—”

  “I don’t care if the chances were one in a million. How dare you drag us all the way out here with such unreliable equipment?”

  “Back off, Syntax,” Lightbridge said. “Albert is a good man with a strong ethic. I won’t have you haranguing him for something out of his control. He wouldn’t allow us to sail without a rescue party handy, so we didn’t. And good thing too.”

  “Yes,” Albert agreed. “This whole argument is moot, because it wasn’t even the boilers that caused the trouble. The fire started in the medical bay.”

  We men turned as one to Geraldine, who sat in silence.

  “Well,” I said. “Have you worked out what happened?”

  Her eyes glistened with tears, and I almost regretted the question. But damnation! We needed to know what went on in that medical bay. What could have triggered such a massive explosion?

  “No,” she said. “I told you, I was on the pedometrics when I first felt the effects. I ran down the hall to see what had happened, and just as I passed into the burning lab, the beam fell upon me. I will confess that the lab housed more than a few volatile liquids. I suppose some combination of them could have triggered such a detonation.”

  I groaned as I cupped my face in my palms.

  “But you must understand,” she said. “It would have taken someone actively mixing the things for something like this to happen. They were kept in cabinets far from one another, each bolted to the floor.”

  “Are you suggesting someone might have sabotaged us?” Lightbridge asked.

  “Not necessarily,” she said. “But I am saying that perhaps one of my students became careless. Either way, it’s another useless point, because they are all gone now.” With this she began to weep again, a grim silent sobbing, as if she were too tired to cry aloud anymore.

  I took her small hand into mine, giving it a squeeze of reassurance.

  “Don’t let it vex you, my lady,” Lightbridge said. “What’s done is done. Now it remains to pick up the pieces and move on. Albert, I will alert the men to your travel plans in the morning. You realize that it will be a dangerous journey?”

  “Aye, that it will,” Albert agreed. “I know you said no weapons with good reason, but I regret not having my shotgun right about now.”

  “Yes, well, about that. I have an admission to make.” Lightbridge slipped open a drawer at the desk beside him, pulling free a ring of keys. Out of the ring he selected a small brass key, then, to my surprise, held it out to me. “Syntax, would you please unlock that cabinet behind you?”

  I did as asked, parting the wooden doors to the gasp of Geraldine and a low whistle from Albert. The cabinet was lined with weapons. From several pairs of shining blades to a plethora of handheld pistols, there was a small arsenal hidden in the captain’s quarters. Enough to arm every man aboard.

  “Shame on you, sir,” Albert said with a hint of humor. “I suppose rank has its privileges?”

  “Indeed,” Lightbridge said. “I didn’t want the men armed while we were aloft, but I’m not so daft as to believe the North a safe haven from danger. I was sure we would incur some level of trouble in our stay at the pole. From animals, or perhaps natives. But I hoped we wouldn’t have to put them to use.”

  “We may still not have to, but forearmed is forewarned.” Albert wrinkled his nose as he realized he’d flubbed the adage. “Or something like that.”

  “Either way,” Lightbridge said, “see that you arm the men on the morrow. Until then, I suggest we all get a good night’s rest.”

  Albert and I stood to leave.

  “What of True North?” Geraldine asked.

  The question was so sudden, so unexpected, I plunked into my seat in surprise.

  “What of it?” Lightbridge asked as he too returned to his seat. Albert sat as well, narrowing his eyes at the woman in puzzlement.

  Geraldine was left to stare down at us. “Surely you aren’t planning on abandoning your goal. After everything we worked for, all that we sacrificed? You’re just giving up, like that?” She snapped her fingers, creating a hollow sound that punctuated her point.

  “Don’t even joke about such a thing,” I said.

  “I’m not joking.”

  “I don’t think now is th
e time—”

  “If not now, then when?” She threw a look of despair at Lightbridge, and I could sense the man’s defenses crumbling at the sight of her need. Her voice was panicked, filled with worry for something so inconsequential. “What about all of the hard work we’ve put into this?”

  “Dr. Goode—”

  “We’ve come too far just to abandon it mere miles from our goal.”

  “Geraldine!” I shouted over her.

  She stopped her rambling, on the verge of tears again.

  Lightbridge leaned forward to rest his arms against the metal housings of his legs. He held his hands before him, clasped with a prayer like aspect. “What are you suggesting?”

  Geraldine flashed a brief victory smile, covering it quickly with another pained look. But I saw it, her joy at having won the captain’s attention over my protests. “I think we should mount a party to seek our goal.”

  “Don’t be foolish,” I warned.

  Lightbridge held up a hand to hush my disapproval. I fell quiet and listened as the woman I loved spoke her mad mind.

  “We were within sighting distance of the pole when the ship came down,” she said. “Which puts us much closer to True North than we are to even the rescue party. We could mount an expedition. We could visit and return before Albert even has a chance to meet with the ground crew.”

  This was lunacy at its worst. There was no way our sensible captain would allow more men to risk their lives for such a meager reward. Yet I saw something in Lightbridge’s eyes just then, a glimmer of hope against the darkness of his total failure.

  Despite this look, he said, “I cannot ask my men to put themselves further in harm’s way.”

  “Actually,” Albert said. “She isn’t the only one to voice such thoughts. Several men have approached me already, wondering if you plan to abandon the cause. They are willing to go. Ready and, most of them, able.”

  There was another brief moment of silence as the captain digested their words. He then turned to me and, much to my surprise, sought my counsel. “What of you then? What do you think of this?”

  “Please don’t,” I begged. “Think of the lives we’ve lost to this disastrous plan. The good men who have died on your quest thus far. Such a massive explosion could not have been foreseen, but surely it is a sign that we should stop before worse befalls us. We have already agreed to split our group in twain. Don’t put all of us at further risk by continuing to dissect our thinning numbers.”

  My speech was weightier than I intended, and left the man without words of return. Instead he bowed his head, looking to the floor as the full burden of my accusations settled on him. I couldn’t help but feel a small pang of guilt, but attributed it to my own survivor’s remorse for having lived while so many perished in the fire. It was a feeling I would have to get used to.

  Geraldine shot me a viperous look, eyes drawn to slits and her frown venomous with hate. She got to her feet and crossed the small room, then stooped until she was kneeling before Lightbridge. Taking his hands into hers, she leaned in to kiss him lightly on the top of his head. “No one blames you, Gideon. You did your best, and we will be rescued because of you. Don’t forget that. Bessy will be so proud.”

  My heart leapt at the sight of her comforting the man. She was always so gentle with me in my hour of need. So loving. So kind. Save, of course, for that single time … but that was long ago, and here, now, she played the angel Lightbridge so desperately needed.

  Until, with a few words, she became a devil once again.

  “But you can’t let that stop us,” she added. “This trip doesn’t have to be a total failure. Think of how much prouder Bessy will be when she hears of your triumph in the face of such adversity.”

  “Come now,” I whispered. “That’s a bit much.”

  Albert attracted my attention with a hiss. I looked to find him shaking his head, warning me not to break the pact of Lightbridge’s long-held pretense. What was I to do?

  “Bessy,” Lightbridge echoed in a faint whisper.

  “Yes,” Geraldine said. “Think of Bessy. You can’t leave her as the wife of a failure. Bring this home to her. Make her prouder than she already is.”

  My stomach fell to my knees at her vicious coaxing. There she sat at his feet, manipulating him with promises of praise from his dead spouse if he took up the wild proposal. Was this the woman I once loved? Still loved? I wasn’t sure anymore. The only thing of which I became sure was the fact that Lightbridge was wooed by her words.

  “You’re right, of course,” he said. He lifted his face to hers, a thin smile on his lips. “We will try. I might be damned for the effort, but we will try.”

  Geraldine hugged him, and I felt all reason slip away.

  ****

  back to toc

  ****

  Sixteen

  Heart’s Desires

  Albert was wrong about there being a few men who wanted to join the expedition.

  All of the men wanted to go.

  Even the worst of the wounded not confined to bed begged to for the chance to accompany Lightbridge on his death race to the pole. I seemed be the only person aboard with any shred of reason left in my overworked mind. Everyone else was set on finding True North, as if the discovery could assuage our worries, console our troubles, repair all of our problems. When Albert announced the formation of the three parties, the men scrambled to volunteer for Lightbridge’s team, a few offered to join Albert’s squad, and none, save the silent infirm who had no choice in the matter, could be convinced to stay behind with me.

  Yes, Lightbridge in his infamous wit and wisdom assigned the remaining men to my care.

  Unlike the rest of the planning, my staying behind made sense. Aside from Geraldine, I possessed the most medical knowledge and would put it to good use by tending to the wounded while the others set off after their goals. Geraldine could have tended to the sick, as one would suppose her caregiver’s oaths would have bound her to do. But the call of True North was like that of a siren for the woman. She insisted on accompanying Lightbridge all the way. I suspected it had less to do with genuine interest and more to do with the worry that he would give up halfway through and return defeated. With Geraldine following him, that wouldn’t happen.

  I couldn’t understand her reasoning for wanting to toss a group of men into the frozen tundra in such a manner. Of course now her motives are as apparent as glass. But, as they say, hindsight is twenty-twenty.

  Though the bodies were willing, the exits were weak. It was a few days before anyone could go anywhere because of our lack of egress. The ship’s landing plowed snow around the Fancy at an angle, curling great swaths of ice up around her at least twenty feet deep and partially burying us in the ice. Even if we could get the shutters open at the proper exits, we were in too deep to get out with ease. That left the bow as our only exit, and even it was a good ten feet under the curled ice. The men had scooped and shoveled all throughout the day following our meeting, but it was still a full day before the exit was deemed a safe passage for anyone. We ended up with a single tunnel, twenty yards long or so, that stretched from the Fancy’s bow to the surface at a slight grade. It was a slippery climb, but passable.

  Albert’s group left first. The atmosphere of their departure was grim; an aura of seriousness hung over the crew right up to the hour of their leave. He and four other men kitted up, armed themselves, filled a small makeshift sled with supplies and set off in the direction we had spent so long leaving behind us. It must have been devastating to go backwards like that. To blaze a trail in reverse after so many days moving the opposite way. The four men voiced their desires to join Lightbridge’s team, but were assured of their place in history as saviors of the Fancy. It seemed little consolation, for they did little to hide their continued grumbling as they disappeared into the tunnel of snow.

  Lightbridge’s team had a better sendoff. The night before his foray into the wild held an air of celebration. There was a small banqu
et for the volunteers—though the food was limited thanks to the new rationing schedule—while an excess of speeches were delivered. To top it all off, Geraldine even sang a round of the Star Spangled Banner, much to the hooting and hollering of the men. I was disgusted by the garish display and returned to my room while they continued to carouse and revel in the glory they had borrowed from their supposed future success.

  Later that night, Geraldine came to my berth. I supposed at the time that she was just reaching out for comfort. Comfort she found, and comfort she gave.

  I was seated at my desk penning what I thought would be my memoirs of this tragic voyage. I have since scrapped those writings, but at the time I supposed them to be of great import. While I sat, in mid-musing about the events thus far, I heard a gentle knock at my door.

  “Come,” I said.

  The door creaked, and I heard her voice from the hallway. “Philip? Are you busy?”

  I leapt to my feet and scrambled for a dressing gown before I met her at the door. Geraldine stood in the soft glow of a burning lantern. She wore a man’s pajama set, for her entire wardrobe had fallen victim to the explosion, yet she was as beautiful as always. I averted my eyes to avoid staring. “Dr. Goode? What brings you here at such a late hour?”

  “I just wanted to be sure you were well,” she said. “You left the celebrations so suddenly, I supposed you to be sick.”

  “I’m fit enough. I just …” here I paused, not wanting to dampen her high spirits with my foul attitude. “I just grew weary of the rabblerousing. You know I’ve never been one for such things.”

  “No, you never were.”

  We both fell quiet at the stirring of memories, and for lack of anything better to say, I suggested she come into my room. I realize it must seem a scandalous notion, a young woman, even a widow, slipping into my bedroom at such a late hour. But I assure you, my intentions were of the utmost good.

  They say the way to Hell is paved with myriad such cobblestones.

  She took me up on my offer, joining me in my bedroom. It was the first time since her declarations of love that we had a chance to be alone. I was beginning to wonder if she remembered those words, or if I had imagined the whole affair. I returned to my writings rather than stare at her in silence.