Authors: Karin Kallmaker
Tags: #Climatic Changes, #Key West (Fla.), #Contemporary, #Alaska, #General, #Romance, #(v4.0), #Lesbians, #Women Scientists, #Fiction, #Lesbian, #Ice Fields - Alaska
Lisa shook her head. “So, you got to go on this glacier junket, I take it?”
“Twelve people, three weeks, two sleds and eight dogs, sleeping two to a tent on the ground. Not exactly a junket.”
“Sounds like you loved it as much as I would love three weeks in St. Croix. To each her own.”
Ani gave her a scathing look. “Yes, I got to go, which was quite a coup. I was really honored. We were delayed almost a month leaving because of late cold weather, and went in June when it warmed up really fast. That made for a lot of instability in the ice. First camp was four days out, and we were there six days. The second camp, where supplies had been dropped by helicopter, was another four days of hiking. Ice fields are like any other kind of geological structure—valleys, and canyons, peaks and gullies, plus you never know when a crevasse is only inches under the ice and you’ll fall in, like thin ice on a lake, except your falling momentum could wedge you permanently in place. With that much gear and supplies, you go slow, about four miles a day, depending.”
“Why do you do that? It sounds brutal.”
“Why do you surf?”
“Because I have to. Okay, so you think you have to do this ice thing. So you’re at the second camp when something happens?”
“Ice fog.” She flipped her empty cup into the nearby trash can. “Fog is when air and ground temperatures get close together. All it takes is vapor in the air and it condenses. Ice fog is where the air temp is already below freezing, then gets close to the temperature of the ground. That summer the big problem was the swinging temperatures. It would get into the fifties and the ice surface would slick up and there’d be some evaporation into the air. Then it would freeze hard in early evening—down toward zero. Glacier surface temps don’t usually swing that much, but it means that the vapor was plentiful, the air temp plummeted and the fog is sudden, thick and burning cold.” Ani shivered, but the feel of ice fog, the weirdness of it, wasn’t unpleasant with the right gear and a GPS locator. Her real admiration went to the natives who survived those conditions—likely by being smart enough not to go out in them—with bear skins and stone knives, while she got to be exhilarated by the challenge of the elements wearing the latest in lightweight breathable sub-zero outergear.
“Anyway, we were all out in pairs boring holes for temperature and ice samples. I was good at predicting fog, and I suddenly thought we were ripe for it, and radioed that everyone should haul ass for base. We all made it back before it set in, except for the profs. They didn’t answer either radio and we were all radioing back and forth about what to do when Professor Tyndell stumbled into camp. She was banged up pretty bad and she told us Kenbrink was probably dead. A canyon wall sheeted and they got caught by the sliding ice. Kenbrink had been unconscious by the time she’d gotten herself out from under the ice. She lost her radio—her entire kit—and was digging with her gloves. She couldn’t get him out on her own.”
“So she had to go for help and probably saved herself by doing so. What a horrible decision to have to make.”
A cold chill crept down Ani’s back. “She said from what she could see he was bleeding out and that he wasn’t conscious made it easier to face the facts. But yeah—not a situation I would want to be in.”
They made their way to the queue for the flight. The distraction was welcome. Ani hadn’t realized it would be so difficult to make sense of the chain of events. She was clear on what had happened to her and when, but there were all the side issues, unfortunate coincidences and mistaken assumptions. She had been as numb as everyone else from the moment they’d found Kenbrink, after the fog had dissipated.
It had been a bright, sunny day. Warm enough that whenever they were out of the wind most of them unsnapped their hoods. The dogs were in fine form, pulling an empty sled, ears up and tails wagging. Ani thought the researchers made a colorful procession, no two snowsuits alike. Monica led the way in brilliant turquoise. Ani was pretty sure she wasn’t the only one who rounded every corner hoping to see Kenbrink in his maroon and navy colors, waving to them.
Finally, they were in a narrow canyon. Ani’s first realization that they had arrived was the sudden whines from the dogs. The sled skittered to a halt. Kenbrink was there, in his maroon and navy blue, but the dominant color of the scene was red. Red, dull like old bricks, spread out over the ice floor. Kenbrink hadn’t even tried to dig out. A knife of ice had crushed one leg and sliced open an artery.
“I was trapped over here,” Monica said. She gestured at a tumble of broken ice. “I heard the crack and jumped backward. My kit is under at least six feet of that stuff. Fortunately, I was free from the waist up and my pick was on my belt. Once I could reach it I knew I was going to be okay. The fog was so bad I could barely see…” She swallowed hard.
Ani gave Monica a sympathetic, short hug. There weren’t really any words that could help.
Monica finally went on, “I could barely see him. He didn’t respond to me at all. By the time I checked—I think he was unconscious from the blood loss, and hypothermia was going to set in. I didn’t have a choice, not with the fog. Did I?”
Kenbrink’s lead grad assistant was shaking his head. He was clearly holding back tears, but Ani felt under no obligation to do so. She let tears fall while they set about the grim work of using chisels and picks to free the stiff body. The blood on the ice stuck to their boots like powder, but it was preferable to fixate on that than look at the blue-veined skin on Kenbrink’s hands, arms and face.
She did her part in helping to transfer the body to the sled. Frozen in an awkward position, they had to move body and kit at the same time, since the kit was trapped under an arm that would only move if they broke it.
Monica borrowed Ani’s radio to let the helicopter rescue know they were on their way to Kilkat Plateau with their unfortunate cargo. They were a chilled and dispirited honor guard when the helicopter arrived to take Kenbrink and one student back to Fairbanks. It had been a difficult decision, but the remaining Kenbrink students had voted to continue the survey, feeling that their leader would have wanted them to. Professor Tyndell also opted to finish their own work—Ani had understood that. The measurements couldn’t be any later in the year or they wouldn’t be comparable and they’d already been delayed too long. There was not just a lot of money at stake, but a hope of changing the way science evaluated the global warming crisis.
They finally broke camp after three more days and headed toward home, every mile feeling longer to Ani than the last. Monica was distraught and withdrawn and had woken twice at night with a muted cry plainly audible through the thin tents. Ani felt so helpless. There didn’t seem to be anything she could do or say to help Professor Tyndell, so she did her job the best she could, earning distracted praise.
The closer they got to GlacierPort the more ominous their arrival seemed. Their tails and heads down, even the dogs seemed to have picked up on the mood.
They clomped up the final approach to the GlacierPort access to find a small, subdued crowd waiting for them. Ani had immediately spotted Eve. Like everyone else she made a beeline for her nearest and dearest. Eve helped her out of the pack, then seized her in a fierce protective hug.
“Am I a bad person,” she asked, “because the first thing I thought was thank the Lord it wasn’t you?”
Ani hiccupped into Eve’s hair, and kept her back to the rest of the crowd. She hadn’t cried since they’d found the body, but now she could, and Eve just kept holding her, strong and tight.
Her next clear awareness was that she was in Eve’s van, with Tonk’s muzzle on her shoulder. He whimpered slightly and she put a hand back to pat him. At home, on autopilot, she let Eve draw a steaming bath. She wasn’t aware of time passing as she soaked, but got out when Eve said so. The bed seemed to rush up at her.
The next morning she stirred, her thoughts unfolding. Soft mattress, a pillow, clean linens printed with lilacs, warmth, room to move, Eve…Eve next to her. She burrowed into the yielding shoulder as the memories of the expedition came back, bit by bit, including the gash of red and the ugliness of blue and white that had mottled Kenbrink’s frozen skin. “A death on the ice is not pretty,” her father had told her. He had understated it.
The angle of the bright sunlight through Eve’s blinds said it was probably six a.m. Ani paused to breathe in the natural blues and greens that made Eve’s bedroom so restful. Moving quietly, she slipped out of bed, found her robe, visited the bathroom, then headed for the kitchen. If she knew Eve, there had been a welcome home dinner, but she’d slept right through it.
She was rummaging in the icebox when she felt a gentle touch at her back.
“Let me.” Eve eased her out of the way. “I’ll reheat it.”
Ani made herself useful by boiling water for tea. Her dorm room hot plate took forever to heat water, so it was always nice to wake up at Eve’s.
This wasn’t how she had planned to arrive home from her first academically sanctioned ice expedition. She’d spent the whole trip out thinking how she would ask Eve if they could move in together. She only spent half her nights at the dorm as it was. Her paid internship work, plus grant projects, would help pay for her keep. Next year she would be a paid teaching assistant. Professor Tyndell thought she had a good shot at faculty down the road. She and Eve could have a nice life.
Since the accident she hadn’t been able to focus on much of anything. Getting back to Eve had been all that mattered.
Her stomach growled and she sniffed appreciatively. She said over her shoulder, “You didn’t.”
Eve, adorable in mussed hair and her thick red robe, preened as she opened the microwave door. “I did.”
“You know that I love you, don’t you?”
“Of course you do. You and Tonk are ruled by your stomachs.” Eve gave her a loving grin.
Ani settled happily at the table, contemplating the bubbling crock. How romantic, she thought—a reprise of the first time Eve had cooked for her. “Just the way I like it.”
She fished a hunk of what turned out to be steak from under the mashed potatoes. Pure heaven. It felt easier to breathe after a few more bites. Best not to think about Kenbrink, who wouldn’t have any more great meals, or her father, who she wished could have had some of Eve’s shepherd’s pie. He’d have liked Eve. She pushed away the useless flash of anger that he hadn’t been able to quit smoking. He’d still be alive and they’d have met. Eve would have liked him, too.
Ani was abruptly not hungry anymore. “I’ll have the rest later.”
“It’s okay.”
Eve’s touch on the back of Ani’s hand sent a familiar, welcome thrill through her. Death had taken its fee, she told herself, but life has to go on or death gets more than it ought. Her father had told her that when her mother had died. She wanted to pull Eve back into bed and immerse herself in life. But first, she thought, first, I’ll do what I had planned.
She was just turning to get down on one knee when the phone rang.
Eve’s eyebrows rose in alarm. “It’s so early,” she said as she went to answer. After briefly listening, she said into the mouthpiece, “She’s right here.”
Ani was surprised to hear Monica’s voice. “I’m sorry, Ani, about the hour. It took me a while to realize you were probably at your girlfriend’s. You need to come back. There’s a question about what happened, and you just need to make a statement. Then I can go home, finally.”
“Of course, right away. I’m sorry. I thought it was okay to leave.” She met Eve’s worried gaze after she hung up.
“Is there some kind of problem?”
“It sounds like there’s an official inquiry. I shouldn’t have left, I guess.” She hurried to the bedroom and found clean jeans and a hockey jersey. On the way out the door she pulled Eve close for a loving, promising kiss. “When I get back…”
“You better believe it, sailor.” Eve laughed up at her, eyes like morning sky.
Professor Tyndell looked as if she hadn’t slept, which was probably accurate. Her bright hair, usually swept forward in a chic jaw-length bob, was still pulled back under a watch cap that framed the best looking face in the geology field, even under these conditions.
“It’s Kenbrink’s notes,” she said without much preamble. “They’re gone. They weren’t with his…body. They weren’t in his kit.”
“Gone?” Ani stood awkwardly in the middle of the professor’s office. The framed needlepoint of epoch stratifications was askew on the wall again, threatening to fall onto the display case of rock and shale and several spectacular cut geodes. The credenza behind the professor’s desk was two-feet deep with papers and books. Opposing corners held notes from two different research projects. The two side chairs each represented her incoming papers and mail. Ani would someday like to have an office this fascinating. “Did they look through everything?”
Behind her a voice said, “Yes, we did.”
Turning, Ani recognized the Dean of the School of Environmental Science. They’d been scheduled to meet twice, but something had come up both times and he’d cancelled. “Did they get left at the accident site?”
His tone brusque, Dean Malmoat said, “His kit was with him, so they’d only be there if they fell out, but several people swear categorically they looked closely at the site after the body was moved. Where’s your pack?”
“I didn’t bring it.” Ani turned back to Monica. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was supposed to.”
Monica blinked. “I thought I asked you to.”
“No—”
“All my fault,” Monica said hurriedly. “Maybe someone can go get it.”
“I can go get it.” Ani was puzzled, and starting to get alarmed. “Am I in some kind of trouble?”
Dean Malmoat gave no sign of reassurance. “You’re the only person who left without checking in. Your pack hasn’t been searched.”
“I was exhausted. I’m sorry, I didn’t hear anything that said we couldn’t leave.”
“I thought—” Monica subsided, looking nervous and pained.
“Someone can go get my backpack. It’s at my friend’s in North Pole. I don’t remember seeing anything on the ground, either. His kit was there, trapped under his arm, which was…” Ani paused to swallow. “Frozen stiff. And still under his arm when they put him on the copter. Nobody wanted to yank it off, I mean, what did it matter?”