‘He doesn’t keep office hours.’
They followed the sticky-sweet smell of cannabis to a bivouac in the corner shadows of the pump room. A camp stove. A pile of books. A guitar.
Ghost lay on a bunk, eyes closed. He was Sikh. He had a turban and a heavy beard.
Rawlins kicked the bunk. Ghost sat up and took off his headphones. Jane caught a brief snatch of Sisters of Mercy.
‘We have a job for you,’ said Rawlins.
They studied the map.
‘It’s too far.’
‘We could use snowmobiles,’ said Rawlins. ‘We could cover a lot of ground, if the weather breaks.’
‘Until you reach your first crevasse and then you have to park and walk. A few weeks ago it wouldn’t have been a problem. But we’re down to a couple of hours’ daylight and it’s minus fifty out there. Normal circumstances, I wouldn’t consider leaving the rig. Shit. The sea is so rough we couldn’t even reach the island right now.’
‘We must do something,’ said Jane. ‘I’m not going to sit by that radio night after night and listen to those poor sods freeze to death.’
‘Okay,’ said Ghost. ‘Here’s the deal. We’ll meet them halfway. There’s a log cabin at Angakut. Built by whalers. Empty, but good wind shelter. If they can make it that far, we’ll fetch them home. I’ll go out myself, when the storm breaks.’
‘Angakut?’
‘It’s at the base of a mountain. You can see it for miles.’
‘All right.’
‘And you better tell them to get going, because the weather is going to get worse before it gets better.’
Rawlins summoned the crew to the canteen.
Most channels were dead. BBC News no longer chronicled carnage. They had lost contact with their outside broadcast units. Instead they re-ran communion from Canterbury Cathedral.
‘The BBC has gone religious,’ said Rawlins. ‘Not a good sign, I think you’ll agree. We’re doing everything we can to get off this platform. The girls are broadcasting night and day. Sooner or later, someone will respond. But it’s time to admit we might be stuck here for winter. Maybe that’s no bad thing. Looks like all hell has broken loose back home. So if we are going to make it through the next few months we need to get organised. I know you folks like your privacy, but we can’t heat and light the whole refinery. Everyone must move into this block by tomorrow night. We’ll live in these few rooms. The rest of the rig can freeze.’
‘I want a sea view,’ said Nail.
‘Flip a coin. Arm wrestle. I don’t give a damn. Just get it done.’
Jane joined Ghost in the canteen. They sat by the window. They sipped coffee and watched the storm.
‘I didn’t know we had snowmobiles,’ said Jane.
‘Two of them. Part of a cache of stuff on the island. There’s an old bunker near the shore. Not much in it. Couple of Yamahas. Some fuel.’
‘So we must have a boat to get ashore.’
Ghost smiled. ‘Clever. Trying to formulate an escape plan, yeah? Well, that’s the big question. What if nobody comes for us? Worst-case scenario: how do we make our own way home?’
Jane liked Ghost. She wanted his approval. She knew full well she was emotionally immature, prone to infatuation. She had to guard against it. Avoid making a fool of herself.
‘You seem like a practical guy. What are the options?’
‘We have a rubber zodiac with a small outboard motor. Twenty- five horsepower. Room for four men and no luggage. Wouldn’t take us very far. We’ve got plenty of hard-shell lifeboats, but no propulsion. The lifeboats are designed to drift free of a burning rig. They float. That’s all they do.’
‘We could build a big raft and put up a sail,’ said Jane. ‘An option, come spring.’
‘Now you’re talking.’
‘We could bolt on an engine. A motor, a drive shaft, some kind of propeller.’
‘Want to hear my big plan?’
‘All right.’
‘Any attempt to sail our way out of here is going to involve weeks, maybe months at sea. We would need to carry a shit-load of supplies. So I say we hitch a ride. Jump a passing iceberg.’
‘Seriously?’
‘The polar ice shelf breaks up each spring and bergs float south on the current. They pass by, pretty much every hour. We could track incoming debris. Soon as a decent-size berg is in range we use the zodiac to ferry men and supplies. Those things move slow. Inertia. We would have twelve, maybe sixteen hours to make the transfer.’
‘Then what?’
‘Camp on the berg. Put up tents. Eat. Sleep. We could tow a string of lifeboats behind us. As soon as the berg hits warm water and starts to break up, we take to the boats.’
‘What does Rawlins say about it?’
Ghost shrugged. He poured coffee.
‘Everyone is pretty snug at the moment. Plenty of heat, plenty of food. But six months from now things will be very different. People will be cold and hungry. They’ll be ready to roll the dice.’
Jane joined Sian in the observation bubble.
‘Let me take over for a while,’ said Jane. ‘I’m wired on caffeine. Why don’t you get some sleep?’
Jane positioned her chair in front of the microphone.
‘Apex Base, this is refinery Kasker Rampart. Do you copy, over?’
‘This is Apex Base. Damn good to hear from you, Rampart.’ The guy sounded tearful and exhausted.
‘How are you folks getting on?’
‘Not so great. The storm collapsed one of the tents and we lost a bunch of stuff. Clothes. Bedding. Hope you got some good news for us, Rampart. We need it.’
‘We are worried about the distance. Indigo Bay is quite a trek. Winter is closing in and there isn’t much daylight left.’
‘You can’t leave us out here to die. That’s inhuman.’
‘Have you got a map with you? Can you see a map?’
‘We’re in no condition to walk. Alan has frostbite. His feet are black. He can barely stand.’
‘Look at your map. Angakut. Can you see it? There’s a mountain halfway between us.’
‘Yeah.’
‘There’s a cabin, a wood cabin. It’s solid. It’s good shelter. It’s warm and dry. If you can make it that far, you can ride out the storm. Then we can pick you up.’
‘That’s a three-day hike. We’d have to cross two inlets by boat.’
‘What’s your name?’
‘Simon.’
‘You’ve got to move, Simon. You have to put on your skis and move. You have to get your team to the main island. We can reach you from there. We can pick you up.’
‘It’s too much.’
‘You’ve got to dig deep, dude. The weather will lift in a few hours, but there’s more moving in. You’re only getting weaker. It will be sunrise soon. You’re the leader. Get your team ready to travel. Whatever you have to do.’
‘I’m so tired.’
‘You’re giving in to death. If you stay in that sleeping bag you’ll slowly freeze. I’ll call again at nine. You better be on your feet and moving. You’ve got to get on your feet and move if you want to live.’
‘Okay. All right.’
‘God bless, guys.’
‘Do they know about the plague?’ asked Sian.
‘Their relief plane didn’t show up. That’s all they know. Might as well keep it that way.’
Punch cut himself a cheese sandwich. He scraped the last smears from a big Country Larder jar of
