“Terrific,” Benjy said. “Siri can play for them.”
She looked wistfully at Esteban. “I wish he was able to have his oboe here. The seals might really respond to that.” Then she said, “I would like to ask Esteban how this switch with Adam came about.”
So she, too, was suspicious.
But Benjy explained that it was not that strange, that there was always some visiting between stations. I looked at Esteban and thought his sparkle seemed diminished. He stood slightly apart from our group, and his shoulders drooped. But when someone spoke to him, a smile lit his face.
Quimby called to us to let the second group have the tour of the station, and most of our group headed for the shack which was also the store, with sweatshirts and T-shirts and coffee mugs, about the only evidence we'd seen that tourists ever came to Antarctica.
I'd bought a mug for John and sweatshirts for Suzy and Rob at Palmer Station, and the shop at LeNoir was so tiny that the few people in there looked like a crowd, so I walked along the wooden planks and then leaned on the rail, looking at the rocks and at the Zodiacs tied up below.
Siri came up behind me. “Vickyâ”
I jumped. “Hi.”
“You heard about Papageno?”
“That his boat's disappeared? Yes.”
She frowned, worriedly. “It's something else unexplainable, and I don't like it. Why is Esteban here?”
I heard footsteps, sounding fairly loud on the wooden walkway, and there was Sam coming up to us. “Hi, guys.”
“Hi,” we both said, and Siri asked, “Why isn't Papageno answering his radio calls?”
Sam said calmly, “Maybe he doesn't want anybody to know where he is.”
“Why would he want to disappear?”
Sam chewed on his cigar, took it out of his mouth and looked at it speculatively, then threw it into the water. “Totally biodegradable,” he said.
“Sam?” Siri persisted.
“Not everybody on the
Argosy
is a disinterested passenger. There's tumult in the Balkans, violence in the Middle East, confusion in Africa, disturbance in South America.”
“What's that got to do with the
Portia
?”
Sam shrugged. “Secrets. Secrets others want. All the emerging countries. Albania. Zlatovica. Estonia. Argentina. Vespugia. All the struggling democracies and the equally struggling superpowers. Everyone. I don't discount the U.S.”
Siri leaned both elbows on the wooden rail of the walkway. “We're not as good and pure as we'd like to be.”
Sam said, “We wrestle not only against flesh and blood but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.”
Those words were familiar. Something my grandfather quoted, I thought. I asked, “So where is Adam?”
Sam said, “I have no evidence for this, but it is my conviction that he didn't just change places with Esteban. It is also my conviction, since I'm an old codger, that his disappearance and Papageno's are not unconnected. Until I know more about what's going on, 'nuff said.”
I asked, “Do you think they've been kidnapped?”
Sam chewed on an invisible cigar. “It is a reasonable supposition, and a distinct possibility, but some instinct, which I've learned to trust, tells me no.”
“Do you think maybe Adam had to make himself scarce?”
“Possibly.”
“Do the people Adam and Papageno and Cook have to make themselves scarce fromâare they interested in Antarctica?”
“Everybody's interested in Antarctica.”
“From two different points of view,” I said.
“Hm.”
“Some people seem to be interested in what may be in Antarctica,” I went on, “and some people may be interested in how to get rid ofâofâ”
Sam cocked his bushy eyebrows at me. “Rid ofâ?”
“Nuclear waste?”
“Are you suggesting that some people may be considering using Antarctica as a dumping ground?”
“It's been mentioned, hasn't it?”
Sam said, “It seems to be human nature.”
Siri said, “But, Vicky, not from the
Argosy
, you know that.”
“Okay. But what about Adam? What about the
Portia
?”
Sam said, “As you probably guessed, Papageno is working with Rusty Leeds, trying to see that no country is infringing any of the treaties. He can and does go anywhere in that old boat of his.”
“You mean,” I asked, “he's a secret agent?” If I hadn't been so filled with anxiety, I'd have laughed at myself for being the romantic again.
Sam pulled another cigar out of his pocket, snipped off the end with a gadget he carried on his watch chain, and smiled at me. “I guess you could call it that.”
We turned as Quimby shouted, calling us together to climb down the rocks and get back in the Zodiacs. People were coming up behind us, and the group ahead of us was slithering down the rocks and climbing into the waiting Zodiacs. Gary and Quim were there to help everybody, and it was good that Quim's arms were strong and steady as he helped Sam into the Zodiac.
I didn't want to be frightened. But I was.
Â
When we got back to the
Argosy,
Siri, Sam, and I went out onto the fo'c'sle and stood looking at the water. The wind was whipping whitecaps along the surface. A few other people came out, but a gale was blowing from fore to aft, so nobody stayed more than a minute or two.
“Something else I don't understand,” I said, “is, why me? Why is anybody after me?”
“It's not you, Vicky.” Sam looked at me. “It may be what some people think you know.”
“I don't know anything.”
“Paranoia is rampant and often accompanies greed.”
I shuddered, and not just from the cold. “It all ties in with Adam, doesn't it? Adam III. Whatever he found out, and hints at in his cards and letters. Oh, Sam, do people kill other people forâ” I broke off. “Yes. They do. I know that. Otto's mother. It's what you said, about wickedness in high places.”
“And some not so high,” Sam said, and looked at me.
“What do you mean?”
“Think,” Sam said. “Who's had an opportunity to know things that might put you in danger?”
I thought about the cards in my locker at school. I still had no answer. Not Cook. It could not be Cook.
Then I thought about all that had happened since I left home. “You mean Esteban?” I drew out the words slowly. I didn't want to say them.
“Who else would know anything about Adam's letters or cards to you? Why was Esteban our guide at the pyramids? Why was he selected as Adam's guide? Surely you know that simply the fact that Adam Eddington is named Adam Eddington is enough to have him watched, especially if anybody remembers the explorer Adam Eddington.” He looked around to make sure we were the only people on the fo'c'sle. Two red-parkaed figures came out the lounge door, were buffeted by the wind, turned, and went back in. The wind was raw and cold and unwelcoming. Katabatic. We were alone, I was certain, but Sam walked slowly around the small space, double-checking. When he was positive nobody else was there, he came back to the rail.
“Sam.” I looked at him, calmly chewing his cigar. “When you were with me on the pyramid in Vespugia, did you suspect something?”
“Yes.”
I
was nearly asleep and I knew I couldn't make myself stay awake much longer. I was ready to let go. My will for life was being frozen.
Then I jerked awake, terror leaping from my heart to my throat. Two huge grey forms were surfacing just a few yards from the iceberg. Seals. Some seals will attack human beings. Leopard seals. Fur seals. Papageno had almost been killed by a fur seal. I'd rather die of cold than be killed by a seal. I tried to sink into the tower of ice that rose behind me.
Not seals. The shadows were too large to be seals, even elephant seals. Two plumes of water rose into the air with a great whoosh. Whales! Two whales! They swam around the iceberg, sometimes submerging, sometimes raising their great bulks out of the water, then diving down, then blowing great fountains through their blowholes. Then they dived down, deep, showing their great, patterned tail flukes before they vanished. I strained to watch for them, and saw them spouting as they headed for the horizon.
They seemed to be saying, “Hold on, Vicky. Hold on.”
I would try.
Everything on the
Argosy
went on as usual. Or appeared to. It was hard, when we all gathered together for Wrap-Up before dinner, to act natural. Otto came in, wearing the green sweater that set off his golden tan, and headed for our table. He bowed. “May I join you?”
“Of course,” Sam said, and pulled out a chair for him, between Angelique and me. “Where were you this afternoon?”
Otto grinned. “You put me to shame, Sam. I stayed on the boat and had a nap. I was up late last night, so I'm looking forward to seeing LeNoir Station tomorrow.”
Quim came in to talk to us a little about the walk up into the mountains the next morning. Then he said, “So, now, just relax and enjoy the evening.”
Jorge came over to our table and stood, his hand on the back of Otto's chair, leaning toward us. “Esteban's delight in seeing you, Vicky, was charming.”
“Esteban.” Otto made a face. “So he is after my Vicky.”
“He's a young admirer of Vicky's, true,” Jorge said. “He's a talented oboist, serving his two years in the army. He pulled quite a few strings so that he could see Vicky again here at Eddington Point.”
Otto said, “I should have gone ashore to meet this prodigy.”
I said nothing. I felt embarrassed.
Jorge looked at me. “I hope you're not too disappointed at not seeing your friend Adam?”
“I am a little disappointed,” I said. “Of course.” Jorge did make Esteban's switch with Adam seem a little more plausible. But only a little, because I no longer trusted Jorge.
Â
After breakfast we got into Zodiacs and headed for LeNoir Station. I hadn't eaten much. Anxiety had taken away my appetite.
Angelique sat next to me. “Are you okay, Vicky?”
“Sure. Just a little
turista
.” I might as well stick to Siri's excuse for sleeping in my cabin.
“Where's Otto?” she asked.
“I think he was in the Zodiac before ours.”
“You two seem to have hit it off.”
“He's fun. Not at all stuck up.”
“Your first prince?”
“Not many princes around our part of New England.”
The Zodiac pulled up to the tumbled rocks. “Slippery,” Angelique said. “Be careful, Vicky.” She looked at me with concern in her dark eyes. “Please be careful.”
Benjy was helping people climb from the rocks up onto the walkway. He reached out and gave me a hand, then turned to help Siri, who was a little encumbered by her harp. “Wait for me,” he said.
As usual, we took off our orange life preservers before starting on the day's hike. As I was putting mine down next to Siri's, Esteban appeared and stood beside us and reached out to touch her harp case, hopefully. She smiled at him and nodded. Most of our group had already started up the mountain with the other three lecturers and Quim. Otto had his hood
pushed back, so I could see the gold of his head as he climbed. Jack had on his cowboy hat; I don't know why he hadn't lost it in the wind.
Benjy came out, looked questioningly at Esteban for a moment, then beckoned to us to join him, and we trudged along the beach for a good half hour, away from the station and any sign of human life. “Tourists like our group,” he said, “aren't the menace to the Antarctic continentâat any rate, not yetâthat you're supposed to be. The damage done has been by various government-sponsored scientific and pseudoscientific missions.”
I was glad Esteban couldn't speak English.
“And,” Siri added, “by commercial fishing and whaling. The number of whales killed is appalling, and to some extent it's still going on.”
“We're trying to stop it,” Benjy said. “You tourists arrive on ships, take pictures, and leave. So far, you haven't done any damage, left any sign that you've been here.” He sounded cross, the way I do when I have something else on my mind, and talk in order not to think about whatever it is.
“What happens,” Siri said, “is that we're so overcome by the beauty that we'll do anything we can to keep it from being spoiled. Any way we can help have Antarctica made into a world park, we will.” She smiled at Esteban, turned to Benjy. “Clue Esteban in to what we've been talking about. You were sounding very fierce.”
“Sure.” Benjy fumbled with his semi-Spanish, and Esteban nodded eagerly.
The beach Benjy led us to was slippery with wet stones, not big enough to be called rocks, too big to be called pebbles. They slipped and slid under our feet and made walking difficult. I was with Esteban, and any time I started to slip, he steadied me.
In a few minutes we came to a curve in the beach where a couple of seals were lying, and Benjy signaled us to be quiet. There were more seals on the floes nearest the land. As much as one can tiptoe in heavy boots, Benjy tiptoed down to the edge of the water, near where a large floe rocked gently only a few feet offshore. Half a dozen seals lay on it, steaming slightly. One raised an uninterested head, looked at us, and returned to its nap.
Benjy whispered, “Okay. Here.”
Siri took her harp out of its case and began to play softly, the familiar melody of a South American song, and she looked over at Esteban and he began to sing. He had a warm, rich voice, and it was hauntingly lovely. I looked from Siri and Esteban to the seals. One of them let out an enormous sigh that rocked the floe. Several shifted position. As we watched, three of them turned slowly so that they were facing Siri and Esteban.
They were listening!
Benjy said, “I am awed. Totally awed.”
Siri continued to play. She looked at Esteban and hummed a melody, and he caught on, and sang, and then he began to weave his own melody to her arpeggios. The two of them were caught up in music, and the sealsâthe seals were listening as intently as Benjy and I were listening.
The moment was broken by the sound of heavy, running footsteps, and we turned to see Greta hurrying toward us. “Oh, BenjyâSiriâSam has fallenâ”
“Where?” Benjy asked sharply.
“Up the mountain”âGreta was gaspingâ“near the largest crècheâhundreds and hundreds of penguinsâslippery with guanoâsteepâ” She grabbed me by the arm as though she couldn't stand without help.
“Esteban, stay with Siri and Vicky!” Benjy shouted, and he ran perpendicularly along the beach, and then upward, slanting his way toward the penguin rookery. A skua flew by overhead, crying raucously.
Siri started to put her harp in its case, slowing herself down in her hurry.
I tried to shake Greta off so I could follow Benjy, but she clung to me like a terrified animal. “Greta, let go!”
Esteban was looking on helplessly. Of course he hadn't understood Benjy, but he moved a step closer to me, saying something I couldn't understand.
Greta continued to hang on to me. “Wait, Vicky, wait. We're not needed. Benjy's trained in CPR.”
“How did Sam fall?”
“He slipped.” She panted, gulped in air, continued, “Guano, it's more slippery than ice alone. He went over the edge of a ledgeâ”
“Is he hurt?”
“YesânoâI don't know. He lay terribly still.”
I jerked away. Started running, Esteban beside me. Siri
and Greta were running behind us. I could hear Siri's harp slapping against her back.
“Vicky! Wait!” Siri panted. “There's no point in getting a heart attack.”
“Siri, I've got to run. Your harpâ”
“I know. It's slowing me down. But I don't want you to be alone.”
“Esteban's with me,” I called back to her. I had forgotten Sam's warning about Esteban. “Take your time. We'll be okay.” We were lots younger than Siri and Greta. We could run faster.
I heard Greta calling, “You should stay with us! You won't be any help!”
Maybe not, but I had to go. Esteban matched his pace to mine. I wasn't sprinting. We'd come over a mile to get to the seals. The rocks slipped and slid under our feet. We ran at a moderate pace I thought I could keep up. I couldn't see Benjy.
Then I heard the familiar putt-putt of a Zodiac coming in to shore just ahead of us. There were three men in red parkas: Jorge, Jack, and Otto.
Jorge clambered out of the Zodiac and splashed through the water to the shore, calling, “Vicky! They're taking Sam to Palmer Station. Come on, we'll get you there.”
I hurried toward him. Sam was more than just a friend. In our short, intense time together he'd become very dear to me. Jack and Otto were pulling the Zodiac up onto the shore.
“All the way to Palmer?” I asked.
“It's not that far as the crow fliesâor as the penguin
swims. The
Argosy
has done a lot of zigzagging with side excursions here and there.”
Jack came ashore, adding in his soft voice, “It shouldn't take more than a couple of hours, and we have plenty of gas. Quimby assured me of that. Let's go.”
Esteban was standing beside me, his hand on my arm, looking with wide eyes at the three men.
We heard footstepsârunning silently in boots is not an optionâand Greta came hurrying up.
“Greta,” Jorge ordered, “you and Esteban go back to the station. Tell them we're taking Vicky to Palmer.”
“Siriâ” Greta panted, and Siri came huffing up, still slowed down by her harp.
“Siri, too,” Jorge said. “There's no hurry. We just don't want anyone to be worried about Vicky.”
“Benjyâ” Siri panted.
“He's with Sam, and he and Dick will go with Sam in the Zodiac to Palmer.” He turned to Esteban. “You will take care of the ladies?” Then he smiled, said, “Sorry,” and switched to Spanish.
Esteban's face was pale and worried. He spoke urgently in Spanish.
Jorge replied sharply, obviously telling him to go. Telling him to take care of Siri and Greta. The three of them began to walk up the beach, Greta briskly, both Siri and Esteban slowly, turning to look at me.
I asked, “How badly is Sam hurt?”
Jorge shook his head. “He's asking for you.”
But Greta had said he was unconscious.
Jorge continued, “He's barely conscious, just a moan, Vicky, Vicky. Dick thinks it would help if you could be with him. He has a concussion, certainly. We hope nothing more, butâ”
I looked at Otto. He was standing by the Zodiac, holding the painter. “Ottoâ?”
“Come quickly, Vicky,” he urged.
I looked up the beach. Esteban, Siri, and Greta had gone around a wide curve and I couldn't see them. “Benjyâ”
“Benjy is with Sam,” Jorge repeated. “Come, Vicky, time may be important.”
“Sweet Vicky,” Otto started.
But Jorge cut in, urging me toward the Zodiac. I tried to pull my arm out of his grasp, but his fingers clamped like iron. “Vicky, what's wrong with you?”
“Sweetieâ” Jack was standing in shallow water, one hand on the black rubber side of the Zodiac. Suddenly I didn't like Jack's calling me sweetie. “Come along.”
“No. I don't want to go with you.” Something was wrong. I looked to Otto for help, but he just stood there, letting the water slap against his boots. He looked at me and shook his head, very slightly.
Jorge nodded at Jack, who took my other arm. I was being propelled toward the Zodiac.
“No! Otto!” The wind was blowing my words away, out to sea. I struggled to break free, but Jorge and Jack were far stronger than I.