登陆注册
10445600000004

第4章 THE BOTTOM OF THE WORLD

So there's coffee. And then there's coffee on a private jet. When Jen, our hostess, took our drink orders, she kept trying to push me toward chocolate milk or ginger ale. She even offered a root beer float. But I knew what I wanted. Hank was snoring like a baby bear, so he couldn't explain my obsession with the black gold. But it goes back to my third foster father, who used to wake me up before sunrise to drink a small, sugary cup with him at the wobbly kitchen table. Since then I'd been kind of hooked. I assured Jen that I was perfectly accustomed to drinking a cup.

"Kids shouldn't drink coffee," she said.

"It's healthier than an energy drink."

Matt tapped rapidly on his iPad, then showed Jen the screen. I didn't have to look to know that Matt had just dug up a scientific research paper or two that backed my claim. This was a galactically annoying habit when he used it against me, but not when Matt was on my side. "He's right," my brother said. "Here's the research if you want to read it."

The expression on Jen's face was a wordless "whatever." "You kids sure are something," she said, and not in a complimentary kind of way. "Keep the research. What kind of coffee would you like?" she asked me.

"What do you have?"

A slightly devious smile flashed across Jen's face. "I have the perfect cup for you, made from very rare and expensive civet beans."

Ten minutes later, the billionaire's version of my favorite drink was set down on the mahogany table in front of me. On a private jet, coffee does not arrive in a simple paper cup. It floats out of the galley on a silver tray, swimming in a porcelain cup. A separate porcelain container of fresh milk stands beside it, along with a silver bowl neatly packed with cubes of both brown and white sugar. I thanked Jen, prepared my cup with great care, sipped gently, and sighed with pleasure.

"You are so lame," Ava said, sucking down her third ginger ale. Then she glanced back at Hank, who was still snoring, and leaned toward my seat. She was trying not to smile. I could guess what she wanted to talk about. She'd mentioned her theory before. "Don't you think it's weird?"

"Not again, Ava."

"Seriously, though. How does Min know so much about Hank? Why does he even listen to her? They're totally dating."

"Hey, what's that?" I asked, pointing out the window. Ava turned, and I pressed the emergency call button on her armrest. As Jen hustled from the galley to see what was wrong, I collected my books and my drink and found a new seat in the spacious plane. Ava tried to blame me for the hostess's alarm, but the victory was mine.

Now, back to that coffee. The drink was essential, because I couldn't afford to sleep. I was determined to finish A Field Guide to the Frozen Frontier and skim a few of the books about Antarctica's early explorers before we arrived. When my boots stepped down onto that ice, I wanted to be an expert on the place. Or at least know more about it than Matt and Ava did. And I certainly had time. The trip was going to take four flights and nearly three days.

First, though, I opened my laptop and skimmed through the e-mails from Hank's scientist friend Anna Donatelli. Besides the unusual emojis, which included cartoon versions of a dancing elephant seal and a penguin playing a harmonica, what stood out was the intensity of her messages. She was all but begging Hank to get down there, and she wasn't afraid to use exclamation points. "You have to see what I've found! Fly down immediately! No, sooner. Please!! This is bigger than science!!!!!" Once Hank informed her that he was on his way, Anna Donatelli's reply contained no words at all. She sent back an e-mail packed with twenty-four exclamation points—I counted—and seven dancing seals. For all her excitement, though, she didn't offer any real clues to what she'd actually discovered, and before long I closed my laptop and switched to the books Min had given me.

When that first flight was over, they pretty much had to peel me out of my seat on Clutterbuck's jet. Our hostess actually gave me a small bag of the civet coffee beans to take with me, and for some reason she was wearing that devious smile again. The next plane was hardly so luxurious, and our rides became less comfortable each time we switched. In New Zealand, as we left the tiny terminal to head toward the runway for our last flight, a man with a ruddy face and droopy eyes stopped us just past the exit. Behind him was a huge cart stuffed with red, fur-lined jackets. He grimaced when he saw us—Hank had warned us that some people weren't thrilled that he was bringing kids to the South Pole—then pulled two coats from the very bottom of the bin and handed them to Ava and me. "Go ahead," he said, "try 'em on."

The breeze was warm, and the sun was hot on the back of my neck, so it felt strange to be testing a coat designed for extreme cold. But in a few hours we were going to land in one of the most frigid places on the planet. So I zipped up. The jacket wasn't just warm; it felt like I was snuggling with a family of friendly bears. The smallest size was still a little too large, but it would work for me and Ava.

"That's your 'Big Red'—your expedition parka," the man said. "She'll be your best friend down there on the ice—and up there in your plane. She keeps everything out. And everything in," he added, winking at me.

There is a secret language between males of the human species that I speak quite well. So with great care I let one out. Then I waited. I knew from the heat, and the several bags of chocolate cookies I'd gobbled down on the last flight, that I'd released something strong. Yet no scent arose to my nostrils. Not even a whiff. "Nice," I said.

"Isn't it?" the man agreed.

Matt's jacket fit perfectly, but Hank mumbled something about wishing his could be taken in at the shoulders. Wrapped in our Big Reds, the four of us followed the two dozen or so other passengers onto the runway and up the rollaway stairs. Our actual destination in Antarctica was McMurdo Station, a United States government research center. So for this last portion of the trip we'd be riding in a massive US Air Force cargo plane. I wasn't expecting private-jet-style comfort and service, but this mechanical bird was built to carry tanks, not people. Picture an enormous metal tube with two huge wings and four giant propellers. All the passengers had to cram into metal seats with straight backs; our Big Reds were the only cushions. Most people pulled their hoods over their faces and prepared to sleep.

"This should be fun," Ava said, rolling her eyes.

"Loads of it," Matt added.

The plane shook like a washing machine on spin cycle and sounded like the world's largest blow-dryer, and we hadn't even started moving yet. A woman sitting across the aisle from us was staring at Hank. "Are you—"

"He is," Ava answered. "Would you like his autograph?"

"No," she said, as if this were the most ridiculous question she'd ever been asked.

Hank had already begun to reach into his jacket for a pen, but he moved his hand to his shoulder instead, pretending to massage a sore spot. "Are you a scientist?" Hank asked the woman.

"I'm a firefighter," she answered.

"Why are firefighters needed on an ice world?" Ava asked.

I nearly jumped out of my seat; I'd just read all about this in the book. "I know!" I said. "On the base there's always a risk of a fire, and you also need firefighters for rescue missions, emergencies, people getting lost out on the ice or caught in a storm. There's a whole population of people down there who have nothing to do with science. Cooks and engineers and truck drivers and even shopkeepers. They keep the base running."

"Not bad," the woman said.

"I'm Jack," I said, holding my hand out to her across the aisle.

The woman shoved her hand into her fur-lined pocket instead. "And I'm going to sleep," she said. "See you on Ross."

"That's short for Ross Island, home of McMurdo Station," I explained to Ava.

"I know that, and I'm going to sleep, too."

There were a thousand other things I wanted to tell Ava and Matt about Antarctica. First of all, it's as large as the United States, not counting Alaska, and 98 percent of it is ice. If the whole thing were a pizza, and you cut the pie into a hundred slices, all but two would be frozen. In the summer, the sun never sets. It just kind of circles around the horizon, rising higher, then dipping lower, never quite disappearing. And in the winter it's all darkness, all the time. I have an irrational but serious fear of vampires, so I was glad we were going in early summer. The way I see it, if vampires really do exist, those dark Antarctic winters would be ideal for their vacations.

Even though it's brighter than the winter, summer in Antarctica isn't exactly pleasant. They have a different idea of good weather down there. If you don't have to cover your face to protect it from instant frostbite, that's a lovely day. Fifteen degrees Fahrenheit is toasty, even though it's below freezing. A bad storm is when the temperature is under a hundred degrees below zero, the wind is blowing at fifty-five knots, and you can't see anything in front of you because of all the snow whipping around. They call that kind of storm a "Herbie." You don't want to get caught outside in a Herbie.

Our destination, McMurdo Station, sounded kind of cool. About a thousand people lived and worked there in the summer, a few hundred in the winter. In addition to the various science labs and sleeping dorms, the research center boasts a bowling alley, a basketball court, a movie theater, and a rock-climbing wall. All indoors, of course. It even has a coffee shop.

What else? I'll run through the highlights. They call the common cold down there "the crud." There's a huge volcano, Mount Erebus, which shoots out lava that freezes instantly, turning into crystals.

Then there were the early Antarctic explorers. Those dudes were completely brutal. One group of them actually ate penguins to survive. Honestly. They turned cute little penguins into steaks. Seal soup was also a popular item on their menus.

During another famous expedition, the team began their journey to the South Pole with forty-eight dogs and returned with only a dozen.

On purpose.

Get it?

Exactly.

Even though it's frigid all the time in Antarctica, you can get sunburned and dehydrated. The cold can suck all the moisture out of your skin. The snow can blind you. And everybody is supposed to stick to a set of crazy rules designed to make sure that humans don't mess the place up. So when you go on a field trip to explore, you have to carry little bottles and plastic bags with you to take care of your business. If you're lucky, you get to use a bucket with a Styrofoam seat. But sometimes you just have to ask your tent-mates to turn the other way.

And the ice itself? Well, the ice is so thick and solid in some places that you can land a cargo plane right down on the surface of it. Which is exactly what we were about to do in our giant metal bird. The tin-can plane dipped. Ava woke up, and through a window to our right we saw the white expanse of Antarctica. The whole world was reduced to two colors, blue and white. In the distance, Mount Erebus was like a cloud factory spewing vapor into the air.

"Planes might not be able to do this for much longer," Hank said.

"Do what?" Ava asked.

"Land on the ice."

"Why not?" Ava pressed.

"Global warming!" Hank said. "Climate change could melt this place."

The rattling, winged tube struck the icy runway, bumping along for a few seconds before settling into a glide. I was as rigid as a board. For a moment I pictured us slipping across the ice, out onto the edge, and plunging into the blue water, but we were miles from open ocean. I closed my eyes and did not open them again until the plane stopped, the huge cargo door opened, and a blast of icy wind practically punched me in the face.

"Whoa!" Hank said. "That'll wake you up! Look at those bluebird skies. And the ice ... notice its bluish tinge? In the height of the summer this entire ice shelf will be completely melted. Imagine that!"

Outside, everything was white and blue and impossibly bright. My eyes burned from the light reflecting off the snow and ice. Squinting barely helped, and the air was like a giant frozen hand wrapping around my chest. We climbed out of the plane, and at the bottom of the metal stairs, Matt tripped. He landed in the snow and slid forward.

And it was awesome.

Once Matt was on his feet again, with the snow brushed off his scarlet parka but the red in his face still glowing, we crossed the ice and headed for McMurdo's version of a taxi, a beastly red vehicle named Ivan the Terra Bus. Only Ivan wasn't like any kind of taxi or bus I'd ever seen. A big red metal box sitting atop giant wheels, it looked like a cross between a garbage truck and a broken-down space freighter from a science-fiction movie. I half expected a crowd of small hooded aliens to scurry out of the back and try to start selling us scrap electronics. Instead, a half-dozen humans emerged and began welcoming and waving us inside.

A woman wearing a green woolen hat hurried up to Hank. "Dr. Witherspoon! Such a pleasure. Really. I'm Britney Kirshner, one of the geoscientists here. Beautiful out, isn't it? The first time I arrived here, I felt like I'd just stepped onto the moon."

"Yes, it's spectacular, and call me Hank, please."

"Certainly," she said. Her eyes were bright blue, her cheeks bright red. A few strands of reddish-brown hair hung down over her eyes. "I hope you'll do the same."

"You want him to call you Hank?" Ava asked.

"What? No. I want him to call me Britney. I ... Oh, you were joking."

"She's quite the comedian," I said.

"Where's Anna?" Hank asked. "I'll admit, I expected her to meet us."

"No one told you?" Britney asked.

"No one told me what?"

"Anna has disappeared."

同类推荐
  • Can I Sit on Your Lap While You're Pooping?

    Can I Sit on Your Lap While You're Pooping?

    As a single dad, Matthew Carroll didn't always have someone to share in his frequent laughter and incredulity at the various things his daughter, Morgan, said. Hoping to docu?ment some of her best commentary, Carroll took to recording her choicest quotes on his iPhone when she was between the ages of three and five. He then compiled them chronologically in a small homemade volume for friends and family who, compelled by the hilarious and touching content, encouraged him to share it with a larger audience. Can I Sit on Your Lap While You're Pooping? is the record of the hilarious, crazy, and touching pronouncements of a little girl, but it's also the irresistible documentation of the love between a parent and child.
  • Death by Rock 'n' Roll

    Death by Rock 'n' Roll

    (A 90-page True Crime Short with photographs) On April 1, 1984, Marvin Gaye--one of the world's most beloved singers--was gunned down by his own father. A generation later, fans still puzzle over how it could be that a man who crooned about peace, love, and understanding could possibly meet with such a violent end--and from his own flesh and blood. Yet the history of popular music is written in blood.
  • The Storyteller

    The Storyteller

    Anna and Abel couldn't be more different. They are both seventeen and in their last year of school, but while Anna lives in a nice old town house and comes from a well-to-do family, Abel, the school drug dealer, lives in a big, prisonlike tower block at the edge of town. Anna is afraid of him until she realizes that he is caring for his six-year-old sister on his own. Fascinated, Anna follows the two and listens as Abel tells little Micha the story of a tiny queen assailed by dark forces. It's a beautiful fairy tale that Anna comes to see has a basis in reality. Abel is in real danger of losing Micha to their abusive father and to his own inability to make ends meet.
  • Signals for Strategists

    Signals for Strategists

    This book is for strategists—leaders, managers, entrepreneurs—who are so caught up in the daily pressures of business that they're missing key signals of their future reality. It's like driving a car heads down, staring at the dashboard, rather than heads up, looking through the windshield. We need to do both. The book is devoted to the practice of sensing, or scanning the horizon for signs of emerging trends. The sooner we see them, the better our response.Each chapter starts with a set of signals—data we observed that, taken together, helped us to reveal a trend. The impact of new technology on strategy is a theme of the book, and each chapter looks at how organizations are using new technologies to their advantage.
  • Moving Target

    Moving Target

    This is an important and illuminating collection of essays and lectures by the winner of the 1983 Nobel Prize for Literature. William Golding writes about places as diverse as Wiltshire, where he lived for over half a century, Dutch waterways, Delphi, Egypt ancient and modern, and planet Earth herself. Other essays discuss books and ideas, and provide a fascinating background to the appreciate Golding's own writing and imagination. It includes Golding's Nobel Speech. "e;Golding come through this collection as reserved and wary, but delightful...His writing is a joy"e;. (Sunday Times).
热门推荐
  • 瀑布:漂洒人间的天河

    瀑布:漂洒人间的天河

    什么是瀑布?瀑布,又称跌水,是指河流或溪水经过河床纵断面的显著陡坡或悬崖处时,成垂直或近乎垂直地倾泻下来形成的水体景观。在地质学上,是由断层或凹陷等地质构造运动和火山喷发等地表变化造成河流的突然中断,另外流水对岩石的侵蚀和溶蚀也可以造成很大的地势差,从而形成瀑布。瀑布景观具有独特的美学价值,给人以充满活力的动态美感,因而是一种重要的水景旅游资源。
  • 极品吹牛系统

    极品吹牛系统

    我要吹破这天,吹裂这地。吹的日月颠倒,星辰移位。吹的大海枯竭,山石腐烂。直叫古帝低头,诸神膜拜。吹牛系统在手,天下我有!
  • 总裁你丫死定了

    总裁你丫死定了

    【致江逻妹妹】学的是兽医咋啦,咱照样给人当护工,而且这人还不是一般人,他可是X市最大的化妆品公司的董事长,若是说骗这样一个人,不被发现还好,若是发现了,那咱这小命不就得。。。想想都后怕啊,可是,好朋友都拍着胸脯说没事了,那咱就硬着头皮干吧,而且不干又能咋办呢,也不能老窝在家里当寄生虫吧。谁知道上班的第一天,就和这董事长老头子PK了一番,然后呢,接二连三的和这个大家族的所有成员都接触了个遍,最讨喜的还数纪家二少爷了,人长得好看咱不说了,关键是人好,笑起来也和煦的不得了,更重要的是和自己一样,都爱小动物爱的不行,最讨人厌的就数纪家大少爷了,那脾气是又臭又硬,而且还风流无比,偏偏他的风流韵事还让自己撞倒了正着,而且还不是一次,呜呜,自己这倒的是什么霉啊。不论咋地,既然咱做了护工,那就好好的照顾老爷子,尽量少插手人家家的家事,可是,为什么,为什么咱不愿意,可是他们家的那些丑事偏偏非得让我知道的清清楚楚的呢,呜呜,不要啦,我要回归无知啦,人家说知道的太多,会有横祸的啦。
  • 皓玥星宸

    皓玥星宸

    简介;郑清玥眼中的南宫若宸,是一个,披着狮子皮的,傲娇、腹黑、鬼狐狸。南宫若宸眼中的她,是一个,需要顺毛捋,强推倒的高冷小野猫。腹黑篇:“玥儿,你看你注定了要当我的王妃,成为我的妻~” 他躺在树枝上邪魅的笑着一脸得意。 郑清玥看着他叹了口气....突然狡黠一笑道;“那如果我不答应呢?圣旨也没用哦”南宫若宸懒散坐起,邪肆一笑。 自树上而下,一把将她逮进怀里,附耳霸道又无赖道。 “没关系,我会一直赖在你身边。” “不管是用坑的、拐的、骗的、还是威胁的,直赖到你爱上我答应我为止。”郑清玥“......你果然是只地地道道的,鬼狐狸。”
  • 疑雨集

    疑雨集

    本书为公版书,为不受著作权法限制的作家、艺术家及其它人士发布的作品,供广大读者阅读交流。汇聚授权电子版权。
  • 王俊凯之故人归兮

    王俊凯之故人归兮

    【新书《TFBOYS之时代》已发,求支持】 明知这是一场意外,你要不要来?明知这是一场重伤害,你会不会来?总之我会,不管是哪一个我,都会不顾一切的来爱你如果我们的相拥只能隔着荆棘,那么我愿意用力、更用力一点地抱紧他!即使荆棘刺穿我的肌肤,刺进我的心脏,只要能距离他近一点、更近一点!
  • 卡耐基:怎样才能打动人

    卡耐基:怎样才能打动人

    《卡耐基:怎样才能打动人》内容简介:如果希望自己成为一个善于谈话的人,那就先做一个愿意倾听的人,有一种简单、明显、最重要的获得好感的方法,那就是记住他人的姓名,行为胜于言论,对人微笑就是向人表明:“我喜欢你,你使我快乐,我喜欢见到你。”
  • 活捉圣诞老人

    活捉圣诞老人

    故事的主人公也许是史上最命途多舛的圣诞老人。残酷的战争来临,圣诞老人就要被活捉!他该如何解除困境,将圣诞礼物送到孩子们的手上呢?战争虽然残酷,小说却温情而动人。即使处于战乱之中,孩子们依然对圣诞抱有希冀和盼望:伊芙琳想要洋娃娃,查理想要制服和小剑,鲍勃和阿栾明知身在战场的父亲无法回家。
  • 女杀手穿越成间谍:凤倾天下

    女杀手穿越成间谍:凤倾天下

    【原创作者社团『未央』出品】前生是杀手,后世是间谍。生死轮回,依然是他人手上操控的一枚棋子!勾心斗角,步步为营,到头来,不过是镜花水月一场梦。
  • 诸阿阇梨真言密教部类总录

    诸阿阇梨真言密教部类总录

    本书为公版书,为不受著作权法限制的作家、艺术家及其它人士发布的作品,供广大读者阅读交流。汇聚授权电子版权。