Fields of Eressa 3

Greenland

Garrett had driven to the second ridge where the bones of the mountain pushed up through the glacier. Pain and tension had worn him out, and Grady had convinced him to lie down in the back of the Snow Cat while she drove to a more sheltered area of the mountain, a high mountain plateau of mostly dirt and rock protected from wind by a sharp fan of stone on the north side and a hill of talus to the east. That hill rose to a sharp summit whose east side dropped a thousand or so feet to an icy hanging valley. Grady replayed a memory of balancing on that sharp ridge, the feel of terrifying space pulling her spirit out into a fatal emptiness.  That was her first year on the ice after the Supreme Arrogant Asshole – the SAA as she referred to him - dumped her.

The “High Camp” was still sixty some odd miles away. Their “road” would take them north and eventually through a pass, that became a widening plain of ice and rock. Five years ago there was no pass, just one sheet of ice sloping into a massive crevasse. It was all ice all year.  Now all that was completely gone and the ride was a lot bumpier and slower. Typically, they’d make dinner and sleep there, continue on in the morning, or at least what the digital clock said was morning. Now, she and Garrett would trade out driving for sleep and travel as far and as fast as possible. Fortunately, at this latitude, it never really got dark during the summer months. Winter? Well, you got the Northern Lights.

The Cat rumbled on its slow, clanking, rattling way. Clouds flowed in ragged torrents with the prevailing winds. The mix of cloud and sun made it difficult to see beyond their immediate surroundings. Not that there was much to look at except for the tracks left by the SM 100, a much larger machine than their Snow Cat. In addition to a living area similar to the “Backseat”, it carried almost all the remote team’s storage. Slower, it needed a 48 hour head start to make Summit a day after their own arrival. For both machines, the most unsettling part of the journey to Summit was just ahead. They had to contour a sloping part of the mountain that would have their Snow Cat leaning to the left 30 degrees for 10 clicks. The Cat was good to 40 degrees or so, but it always felt to her like the whole machine would just barrel roll into the depths. And then there was the “Squeeze” where the passable trail narrowed to a mere thirty feet across. The drop on either side was dizzying, but the front blade on the Cat and Crawler alike kept the way passable.

            “Grady?” The radio suddenly came to life.

            “Yeah? Who wants to know?”

            “Can you get Dr. Miller in the cab with you?”

            She didn’t like the tone of seriousness in Jerrod’s voice, very unlike his normal sardonic nature. She could hear the low roar of aircraft engines in the background. She turned to yell through the portal, but found Garrett already making his way with careful movements into the passenger side of the wide bench seat.

            “I’m here, Jerrod. Continue.”

            “Umm. Ok. It’s like this... Wait. Here’s Dr. K.”

            “Grady? Garrett?”

            Ok. This was bad. Bad news always came from the top. Grady steeled herself.

            Garrett spoke in measured tones, “Marius. You’re airborne. That isn’t a good sign. Are we still pre-fracture?”

            “I’m sorry. So very sorry. It is still early in the event, but it has begun. Closest to our own need, part of the landing strip suddenly slumped, and we had to get the aircraft airborne. And… I’m also sorry for the both of you. We had no alternative but to abandon you for a time. Of course we will get you as soon as we can, but it will be a while before that may be possible.”

            “Dr. K? What are you saying? How long is a while?”

            “Well Grady, we didn’t anticipate Summit being effected this soon by whatever is happening under the ice, and we will make a supply drop that should keep the four of you in food and other necessities for a few weeks if for some reason Summit isn’t viable, and we can’t make other arrangements. But we should be able to work something out with Tulle AFB before then… I mean as the base becomes viable again.”

            “What is the state of the fracture?” Garrett asked again.

            “Our worst fears realized, I’m afraid. One ice dam failed near Jakobshaven and may have taken the whole community. And now, the freshwater pulse is only increasing in range and volume. We have indicators of other points of rupture. We simply don’t know how much free water built up under the ice. It is still early in the event, but from what you described to Jerrod, and the crevasse opening under the radio array up here, and if that is conversant with the failed ice dam, then this is beyond our worst fears. What we are now experiencing may signal the rapid disintegration of the ice caps.”

            She turned suddenly to Garrett, “Wait. I sure as hell didn’t hear what I think I heard. Did he say a crevasse opened up near Summit? There is nothing but ice under Summit, no terrain features to create a fracture… and that ice hasn’t moved since God made dirt.”

Grady immediately felt stupid again. Here she was the ice bitch correcting her betters. Garrett just stared at the radio speaker, his brow furrowed in concentration.  He looked pale.

Marius continued to lecture, “…we can plan for at least a two meter increase within the next week, but we are really out of our ken at this point.  In retrospect, the late decade fourfold increase in glacial earthquakes nearer the coast were strong indicators of much more liquid water under the ice sheet and more increased glacial mobility than we factored into our models. But with less water exiting the drains, there was reason to think the core of the ice sheet was stabilizing. Of course we’ve created alternate models around tipping point scenarios for years, but…”

            Garrett interrupted, “No! It will be worse. Much worse! Where is our nearest exit? That is, now that you’re airborne. Maybe you could have your pilot radio for a Chinook, retrieve us and the equipment.”

            “I am afraid that will take some time. The Air Force is also evacuating its base, its personnel as well as the weapons systems we know are there. The ice sheet is just that unstable. Air Force said they are not planning to reoccupy for the time being. My model predicted this scenario, but that is rather cold comfort at the moment. So, I am afraid that…”

            Garrett cut him off, “I am afraid for all of us. The world should have been alerted after last summer… after the collapse of the Illaullsap Valley, and you knew it. We knew then a massive freshwater pulse was likely… that… that the icecap was showing signs of increasing instability. Why didn’t you make a more aggressive case? You had the data.”

            “You know as well as I do that no one was ready for an abstract scenario of this magnitude. And, it is why you didn’t step forward yourself. You have the same standing before the media, but you wisely chose not to. What we are living through now could not have been avoided. We sounded the alarm decades ago and nothing changed. Four out of six summers with 100% surface melt, and no real legislative reform, much less populous lifestyle changes. We’ve had clear evidence of the Earth warming for decades. It’s not our fault thousands are dying…. Ah dear God! I’m sorry for the diatribe. It isn’t what you are needing. We’ve just tripped over the event horizon.  We have just today entered the era of global destabilization. If there is a scapegoat, you might just as well go target paradigm intransigence.” 

            Everyone waited for someone else to speak. The background roar of the plane engines over the radio, and the crackle of the Snow Cat’s diesel engine, filled the space in the cab. No one wanted to think about how many dead might still be living if… if what? Few took the implications of climate change seriously. Both academic and government politicians who spun the facts to their best interests – whether government or academic made no difference. And the globe gained that 1.2 degrees Celsius rise, which meant the Earth’s icecaps would melt. Feedback loops would spiral out of control. But a meter of sea level rise was to take at least 50 years, not one week with more to come as the ice caps emptied out another ocean of cold water. The ocean’s perennial currents would be disrupted. Icebergs would now litter the world’s shipping lanes, and with increasingly stronger storms due to more atmospheric energy, global transportation would be severely disrupted. Hurricane force windstorms would be generated as massive amounts of air responded to the new oceanic temperature gradient.

            Garrett began, “Of course you’re right. I…”

            “Jerrod tells me you’re injured. How are you getting on?”

            “The ice bath immediately after the fall helped reduce swelling, but I’m moving slowly. Thanks to Grady, we are still able to have this conversation,” said Garrett without emotion.

            “But not without your sense of humor in the face of catastrophe. I am sorry it had come to this juncture in the course of events. Grady. You have my personal thanks for your care of a very important scientific mind.”

            “Don’t mention it. I got a great picture of the mind.” Grady muttered.

            “We’re dropping an emergency kit on the plain just beyond the Squeeze. You’ll find additions to what’s in the Crawler in terms of food and ammunition. I’ve included an additional satellite phone. And you’ll find items to make life on the ice a bit more bearable.  Summit is still well stocked, but getting to that store of goods may prove treacherous. Now, is there anything I can relay to your families?”

            “Yes, there is.” Garrett looked out the window a moment and then back at the radio. “Have Shelly call tomorrow on satellite, and be sure to give her the package when you see her.”

            “Ah. Of course. But you’re not suggesting she open it.”

            Garrett hesitated, “Well… no. Not till our destiny is absolutely certain, but the odds are thinning, and I think she should have it. She needs to know what we’re up against.”

            “I’ll be sure she gets it with assurances of your safe return. We will get you all off the ice.”

            “I know you will do your best. But we are all in uncharted territory now, and our powers of prediction are based on parameters that have proven unreliable as to the severity of our situation. Can you recommend a safe region of ice?”

            Silence persisted for a few moments.

            Dr. K’s voice sounded worn when he finally answered, “No. I can’t. I am very sorry, Garrett. Try midway between the coast and Geo Summit. Some place with rock outcroppings, but you already knew that. I am sorry, Garrett.”

            “Dr K?”

            “Yes Grady?”

            “If you could get to my dad, I’d appreciate it.”

            “I’ll do what can be done. Look after one another. While we have breath there is hope. You two must remember to not give up hope.  I will be back in touch as soon as it is possible.”

            “So Shelly is your wife, your girlfriend?”

            “Yes.” Garrett adjusted the driver’s seat and slid the Snow Cat into gear.

            “Two Shellys?”

            “No. Just one occupying both categories.”

            “Aw, that’s sweet.”

            Without sunglasses, the intense sunlight made the landscape outside blinding white. Through their dark lenses, the two day old tracks of the Crawler were visible where blowing snow hadn’t covered them. Grady talked down her growing sense of unease with non-consequential conversation, but the lack of radio contact weighed on her mind. All last night she anticipated the radio suddenly coming to life with other groups checking in with each other, but there was nothing. A time would come to plan their survival on this melting iceberg, but she wanted a four-way conversation for that. As self-involved as Chris and Kristine were, there were no excuses for this kind of gap in communication. She’d slice and dice as only a southern girl can when she got hold of them.

            “You got kids?”

            “No. Just had a lot of student loan debt.”

            “Yeah, well… that pretty much kept me out of school. My daddy drank most of our money. Has a nice boat though. Loves his boat.”

            Garrett grimaced, “I know that story. Drinking is an utter waste of life, but any day on the water is a good day. I had summer jobs working fishing charters in Alaska. It paid for some of my graduate work. In fact, I ran a commercial boat one year. I loved all those days on the water.”

            “Big fishin’ guy, huh? You and my dad would be peas in a pod. That’s his life. Fishin’ and drinkin’.”

            “What kind of boat?”

            “A Grady White. All 28 feet of her.”

            “A Grady’s a good… wait. You’re kidding me, right?”

            “No sir. And that’s my name.”

            “He named you after his boat? I guess you’re grouped with things he loves. I guess that’s not a bad thing, right?”

            “Yeah. Boats, babes, and booze. Loves me in his own way, I guess. Hard to tell sometimes. So where do you hail from? ”

            “Seattle area. A place called…”

            “Wait. Stop!” Grady interrupted. “Don’t follow those tracks down the slope. You should…. What the hell! They got no business going that way. Needed to stay higher on the hill. What are they thinkin’?”

            “So what do we do?”

            “Go slow for about a hundred yards, kind of parallel between their tracks and this part of the slope. Then I’ll check it out on foot.”

            “I’ll keep you company from the cab.”

            “You’re a good man, Dr. Miller.”

            “No, seriously. What will you need?”

            “Don’t know. I’m not there yet. Let you know when I know.”

            They didn’t motor more than fifty yards when a shudder vibrated through the ice that tipped the Snow Cat awkwardly to its left and caused an involuntary turn downhill. Grady screamed needlessly for Garrett to backup. The Snow Cat lunged backward, seemed to float ominously for an instant as its tracks found traction in the softening snow, and then rattled obediently back up the slope. Without hesitation, Grady slipped into her parka and jumped from the open door onto the snow. Garrett watched her run twenty yards downhill and suddenly try to stop, arms waving wildly as she fell out of sight.

Fear seized Garrett’s heart and he flung himself painfully into the back for a rope and his parka. Out of the backend of the Backseat, he stumbled after Grady. His back pinched. His pulse raced. Pain and exertion plagued every step. Garrett tried hard to ignore the signals flaring in his body and after a trugging a few yards, he saw Grady crawl back into view. The sudden gap in the slope was hard to see in the blowing snow and glare of the sun. It was a minor gap, but it didn’t have to be. Garrett looked at the slip of snow that had nearly taken the Snow Cat down into steeper territory. He replayed crevasse rescue technique in his head and limped up as Grady dusted the snow off her parka and Gortex pants.

Below the imprint left by her fall, the slope had sloughed off into an ever widening trough of loose snow and ice. Three hundred feet below where they stood, a large crevasse had opened and swallowed all of the litter from the small avalanche. Lodged in one corner of the crevasse half buried in a tumble of fractured ice, the Crawler lay on its side, angled cab down, as if parked inside a vertical garage.

            “Oh God in heaven! We got to get there. The winch cable won’t reach that. But we got two ropes. Garrett, you…”

            She turned to see Garrett limping rapidly back to the Snow Cat. One orange static line lay in a butterfly coil where he dropped it. She ran past him to the Backseat, retrieved the other rope, while Garrett grabbed the winch remote out of the cab. With the electric motor whirring, he began the painful process of extending the cable its full length. With orange rope in hand, Grady ran back to where the other rope lay in the snow, and quickly splayed it out. Any moment now, the ice slope might shudder again and dislodge the Crawler from its precarious parking spot. By the time Garrett reached her with the cable, Grady had both ropes tied together, and ready to clip them to the turnbuckle that held the chain hook. She fed a bight of rope through the rescue eight-ring and violently slapped a carabineer to the device and then to the turnbuckle. 

            As she tied a bowline on a coil to her waist, she said, “I know your wrist is injured, but…”

            “I got it. But you will have to work hard to get that static line to feed through that eight-ring. The slope isn’t steep enough for a rapid descent. Take it off the eight and reattach it above the double fisherman’s knot. I’ll body belay you the first pitch.” The tone in Garrett’s voice left no room for discussion, and Grady didn’t offer any.

            Garrett kicked a place for his butt in the hard pack, settled in and put the loop of rope nearest Grady around his back and sat down.

            “Go fast.”

            She nodded and jogged down the steep bank of loose ice. Garrett was grateful for the thickness of his parka and the gloves on his hands as the nylon rope sang against his jacket, but any weight on his body was going to be painful, and Grady’s descent quickly became unbalanced. He steeled himself for the inevitable. Grady slipped. The rope went tight around his lower back. He instinctively crossed the rope over his lap. Searing pain radiated down his legs. He gasped and held on. Grady bounced back onto her feet and resumed her sliding descent down the ice slope. She was almost to the end of the first rope, then he could belay her from the eight-ring and not his body, but her descent would be slower. It was likely one or both of Grady’s friends were injured. He wondered if there was a rescue litter in the Crawler and if Grady would be able to get to it. Failing that, Grady could rig a rescue sling. In either case, Grady would need to get the injured to the door of the vehicle. That could get dangerous.

            Garrett felt the knot slide around his back and yelled, “You’re on the eight now! And watch yourself getting in that Crawler. We don’t know how stable it is!”

            Grady didn’t answer and Garrett kept feeding her rope, whipping the curls out straight to keep it from binding up in the eight-ring.  When Grady reached the Crawler, Garrett had twenty feet of rope left. He could hear her calling Kristine and then Chris. Hope tightened in his chest, hope that someone inside would swing open the back door and Grady wouldn’t have to go inside to find God knows what. But that hope died, and Grady climbed up on the ladder to the back door of Crawler’s main storage compartment and with effort pulled it open. Garrett watched anxiously as she untied herself from the rope. That was smart and dangerous. She tied a figure eight knot in the end of the rope as a foot loop and a butterfly knot four feet above it for a hand loop. She threw the rope in through the door and signaled Garrett to take up three feet of slack. That done, she stepped into the foot loop and Garrett lowered her into the Crawler.

            Grady did a quick survey of the back storage area. Plastic and metal cases clogged the far end, but the fuel drums were still attached to the aluminum wall brackets near the door. Nothing smelled like fuel, diesel, or white gas. A good sign, but the door between the storage area and the living area was completely blocked.

            “Chris!” Grady yelled, “You in here?”

            Silence. Nothing from the compartment next door. Not good. She’d have to climb the railings along the outside of the Crawler to get to the door of the living area, or go farther down into the storage area and clear the doorway. Bad idea.

 Grady considered her options. “If they’re dead, there’s no point getting them out. If they’re alive, they’re too injured to answer and time means everything. And how long is this shining box going to stay perched on the edge of oblivion? I got to rope up, down-climb the outside and see what can be done. But if this thing goes and catches the rope…. Don’t even want to think about that.”

            Grady found a place to stand, quickly untied her foot loop, and retied the rope around her waist. She climbed back up to the doorway and then to the outside of the Crawler.

            Grady looked up at Garrett and yelled, “Take up some…” and the words stuck in her throat. Beyond Garrett, half hidden by the curve of the slope, Grady saw the upper half of a person in a red parka.

            “Hey! Chris!” Grady shrieked.

            But the figure quickly disappeared from view, and Garrett turned too late.

            Garrett yelled, “Is somebody uphill from me?”

            Grady was confused. Why didn’t Chris or Kristine wave or come down into better view? Whichever it was, the other one must be injured or hypothermic. That could be the only explanation.

            “Yeah! Up above you. Somebody must be hurt. Bring me up!”

            Garrett hit the button on the remote and the winch whirred to life and began pulling slack out of the rope. As the rope went tight, she heard metal scraping on ice and felt the Crawler move under her feet. Heart pounding, Grady pushed off and away from the falling machine. She spun round in time to see the Crawler pivot and spill roof first with an echoing concussion into the crevasse and get wedged some thirty feet down. Grady stared for a moment at the Crawler’s undercarriage and her own likely death as the contents of the Crawler thundered into new positions. The 50 gallon drums of diesel must have finally come loose. Debris spilled from the backdoor. She would have been part of it falling into the depths.

            The rope around her waist pulled harder, and dragged her up hard ice. Stumbling to get her feet, and running to keep her balance, she looked up again. Garrett limped with all the speed he could muster up toward the cab of the Snow Cat. No one met Garrett as he climbed into the driver’s seat and put the Cat into low reverse. Monitors showed no one behind the Cat and no one called from the Backseat. Whomever it was must be getting back to whichever one was in too bad of shape to move.

            “Get Grady into the Cat and follow the tracks to wherever they are,” Garrett preplanned the obvious. He felt nauseous. His heart was pounding.

            The grinding whir of the winch silenced as the cable hook clanged into its place. Grady ran towards him well ahead of the hundred feet of rope he was trying to take up with the Snow Cat’s reverse motion. Garrett brought the Snow Cat to a halt, opened the door and climbed down the ladder.

            “Garrett! Do you have both of ‘em? Are they ok?”

            “Nobody made it back, Grady. I saw no one.”

            “They didn’t wait for you then. Whichever one made it back isn’t thinking straight. Look for footprints!”

            Snow crunched under their feet as Grady led Garrett down to where she saw her friend in the red parka. But the only footprints they found were their own. They circled the area in opposite directions within sight of the Snow Cat but found no sign of anyone. Grady was nearly frantic when at last she and Garrett met uphill from their Snow Cat. 

            “What’s going on here, Garrett? Why aren’t we finding anything? The ice is crunchy. They’d have left footprints and we would’ve found them. Snow’s not blowin’ that hard.”

            “Let’s look again. Wider circle and slower.”

            Garrett fought for clarity of mind as jolts of pain radiated down his left leg. He wondered what Grady had seen. It must have been something. It was grace that at the time, the rope on Grady was tight and off the Crawler. It would have snagged on something as the Crawler fell and Grady would have been ripped apart. Whatever she had seen saved her life and probably his as well. Garrett was beginning to realize that the damage he had taken during his fall wasn’t going away in a few days. Movement was essential on the ice and his capacity to move felt very limited. Even now walking was more painful than when they started this rescue mission.

            Grady’s sense of futility deepened as her search path closed with Garrett’s. What had she seen? There was no sign of anybody else walking around up here. They would have to go back to the crevasse.

            “Oh God! If I was just seeing things…. No. I saw what I saw. But where are the footprints? Why isn’t anybody yelling for help? This just ain’t right.”

            Just a few yards away, Garrett suddenly went to his knees. He felt like he might pass out. He breathed hard and gathered his strength, felt pressure from Grady’s hand on his back. Then something in the snow caught his eye. He dug at it with his glove and uncovered a gold locket on a silver chain. He held it up and Grady took it from him.

            “Yeah. This is Kristine’s. Can you…. You’re not looking so good. Let’s get you warm and lying down.”

            Garrett nodded and slowly got to his feet, “I’ll get myself back to the Cat. You need to look… ah, excavate this area and see if there is anything else. Is the chain broken?”

            “No. And the latch is clasped.  Kristine wore this all the time, even to the shower. She just wouldn’t let this thing drop unless there was a really good reason, or somethin’ happened that slipped it over her head. But that didn’t happen. Not if she had her parka on. This is getting weird.”

            Garrett and Grady looked at each other for a minute. Grady saw the strain in Garrett’s blue eyes. His skin looked pale.

            “Ya know? I need a radio before traipsin’ around too much. I’ll get you set up with hot coffee and get some supplies for me. Let’s be smart instead of rushed.”

            Garrett nodded again and stifled a groan as he got off his knees. Grady walked beside him toward the red tracked machine that was now their lifeline. He led her to the door of the Backseat and let himself in, but stopped short just inside their living space.  A man and a young woman both in red parkas sat in the fixed chairs on either side of the table across from the bunks.

            Garrett spoke while Grady crowded in behind him, “I would like to know your names, but our first concern is with our friends who were in the O’Hara stuck in the crevasse. Can you tell us anything about them?”

            “We got them out, and both are really good. In fact, never been better,” answered the young woman who looked to be in her early twenties. Long blond hair framed her face - a face that spoke of her Dutch ancestry. Something in her blue eyes seemed out of place in a face so young. Something much older, or maybe seasoned, resided there.

            The man who sat opposite her now stood up. He was almost a head taller than Garrett and thickly built. His hair was short cropped, a mix of light blond and light brown. A dark beard shadowed his angular features. He spoke kindly, “You, however, are injured. You need to sit down. Let us take care of you.”

            The man made room for Garrett, but Garrett remained by the door in front of Grady, “You don’t look to be Air Force, but you seem to be on a rescue mission. You’re not Danes by your accent. Who are you with?”

            “Dad. He doesn’t have much time,” said the younger woman and then to Garrett she said, “We’re with the E.R.E.S.S.A., but you need medical attention. You’re bleeding inside.”

            “Dr. Miller. Your spleen has ruptured and you have a hematoma swelling in your head. You’re tough, but now you need help. Will you let us help you?” said the man motioning to the chair and moving to stand beside his seated daughter.

            This man’s diagnosis, however he came by it, matched Garrett’s best self-assessment. But the acronym was unfamiliar and he felt certain he knew every American group working on the ice.

            “Garrett. I think it’s alright. Let ‘em help you if they can,” put in Grady. “We got a lot to lose if you don’t get help.”

            Garrett limped to the chair and slowly eased into it. The man stood in front of Garrett and said, “Can I put my hand on your shoulder?”

            Garrett shrugged and suddenly felt a wave of heat wash over him and course through his body. Something in his abdomen pinched. His head cleared, and Garrett was aware of his pulse slowing. His body simply stopped aching. The stabs of electric pain shooting down his left leg stopped.

            Images of fantastic cities of broad avenues, and garden-like plazas flitted through his mind. Sophisticated villages situated on tranquil waterways came and faded. The mental images were clear and compelling, but completely foreign. But it was the face of a man with sharp features and penetrating gaze that persisted in Garrett’s mind even as other images faded and the confines of the Backseat once again surrounded his awareness.

            This strange healer, still standing in front of him, winked and smiled slightly. Some mysterious process working in him kept Garrett seated. After a long minute of silence, Garrett stood. He tested his body. All the pain was gone. He touched his face and worked the steri-strips off of his cheek with his finger nail. The cut was just gone, the skin smooth.

            “Ok. How did you do that? Who are you?”

            “My name is Michael and this is my daughter Jenny.”

            “Right. But who are you? How can you do what you just did?”  

            “It’s just something I can do. Call it a God-given ability. Your friends are with our friends. They’ve taken them up the ridge past a place you call High Camp. Give us a lift, if you don’t mind. We’ll meet up with them at an abandoned mining operation. It has good, solid rock for shelter and some provisions.”

            Garrett was about to bring Michael back to a better explanation of this miraculous healing, but Grady suddenly turned him around and put her fingers where she had glued his skin back together only the day before. Her eyes filled with wonder as she looked quickly at Michael and then down at Jenny. Grady was at a complete loss of words, but finally managed to ask, “Are you guys angels?”

            Jenny answered, “Oh no! We’re from Julian, California. And really. Our idea of angels? Just really limited. But we’re not them.”

            “But this… this thing you just did… makin’ all those wounds close and you knew he had internal damage…. Is all that normal for ya’ll?”

            “Well… yeah. I guess it is kinda normal for Dad. I guess it’s normal for the Eressa people.”

            “And ya’ll took care of Christopher and Kristine.”

            Jenny glanced at her dad and haltingly said, “Um… well… we didn’t exactly. Our friends did.”

            “And we need to join them,” put in Michael. “The place you call “The Squeeze”? We need to be through it within the next hour or so. The ice pack is destabilizing and slopes like this one will grow increasingly impassible. Garrett, will you drive?”

            Garrett nodded, “There is room for all of us in the front. I’d like to continue this conversation.”

            “And we will, but let’s get moving. We’re burning opportunity.”

            Garrett removed his parka, and handed it to Grady who was standing near the wet storage closet near the backdoor. As she stowed his gear and her own, Garrett turned the Snow Cat up the slope and quickly picked up a new set of tracks in the softening snow.

            “Your people are driving something with tires?” asked Garrett.

            “We have a couple 6x6’s, 48” tires, Cummins diesels with a kind of pollution capture technology, not that that is much of a factor at this point with both icecaps disintegrating.”

            Garrett glanced at his healer as he drove the Snow Cat onto ground that still leaned heavily to the left. Never a believer in miracles, Garrett searched his mind for some plausible explanation for this sudden healing. There was none. What kind of person does this?

            Garrett asked, “So does your organization study climate change? I know of every group working on the ice right now, but I’ve never heard of the E.R.E.S.S.A.”

            “Eressa is the better name for us. But that would be right. We are a relatively unknown organization. You might think of us as an institute, part of which is dedicated to disaster relief management. We have been working in the background for many years.”

            Garrett pressed, “I’ve published on relief organizations and their efforts worldwide, but I’ve never heard of yours.”

            “The one who organizes our efforts wants it that way. Our people are generally assigned to organizations familiar to you,” Michael said without emotion, as if distracted by other thoughts, then he added, “Can you get more speed out of this machine?”

            “Yeah we can,” answered Grady, “but it’s real noisy and it ain’t comfortable.”

            “We need speed more than comfort. Let’s make this thing roll.”

            Garrett nodded and shifted into a lower gear and sped up till everything in the cab was bouncing and conversation was impractical. Everyone in the cab wore dark glasses against the blinding white sunlight. With the expressive language of the eyes hidden from him, Garrett couldn’t see the tells of lie or truth, but the whole story wasn’t coming to light. Grady sat with her eyes closed. Garrett concentrated on his driving. Nobody tried to yell above the engine’s roar and the clatter of metal tracks.  Garrett tried to find some pain in his body. At thirty-five and after all he’d just put his body through, something should hurt. The Snow Cat bumped over a small ridge and moved off the left leaning slant. The ice road was relatively smooth and level. The banging of metal on metal became a clanking whirr. Conversation was again possible. 

            Garrett asked, “How long have you been with Eressa?”

            “Just over a year now, but can I ask you a couple of questions?” said Michael.

            “Sure.”

            “What brought you here?”

            Uncomfortable images of Shelly with folded arms with that damn impassive look in her eyes appeared in his mind. She looked troubled, but he unloaded his luggage from the car without comment, hugged and kissed her, and nearly sprinted toward check-in. Only now did he recall how he felt the pressure lift as he walked away from her.

            He told Michael, “I’m here to expand our working knowledge of ice sheet dynamics.  For me, as an oceanographer, this has become a critical issue, as what is now occurring makes painfully clear. But then, how much do you know about what is happening today?”

            Garrett glanced at Michael and saw him look out the window. The sober gaze behind the dark lenses told Garrett all he needed to know. Whoever this Michael was, whatever his true purpose for being on the ice, this man knew life on planet Earth would never be the same after today.

            “Yes,” Michael answered, “we have reached the global tipping point. And yes. Nothing on Earth will be the same after today. Sea level rise is only the tip of the proverbial iceberg. Forgive the gallows humor. Disruptions in the oceanic conveyor belt, increased atmospheric energy, tens of thousands of ice islands floating in traditional shipping lanes, killer rogue waves, ever increasing geothermal activity, saline contamination of traditional agricultural regions in developing countries… nothing will be the same after today.”

            “So you know about the freshwater pulse.”

            “We know. And that’s why we’re here. Greenland is now uninhabitable, and you and Grady, among others, need rescuing.”

            Grady spoke up from the bench behind the passenger seat now occupied by Michael, “Garrett? You’re gonna need to stop before we get into the Squeeze proper. I got to check it out on foot before we drive it.”

            “We’ll all go on foot.” Jenny piped in, “Hrok is on the other side waiting for us."

            Michael nodded, “The ridge fractured. We can walk it, but you can’t drive it now. You can leave everything but what you’re wearing. We are well supplied.”

            Garrett responded, “If it’s all the same to you, I’ll grab my stuff. Now, what you said about our rescue, that can’t be the reason you’re in Greenland…”

            “Dad! He’s gotta stop. Dr. Miller you have to stop here.”

            “Grady?” questioned Garrett.

            She replied, “Normally, we could go another… oh, three hundred yards…”

            “No! Stop now!”

            Michael grabbed the stick shift and with gears grinding pulled the Snow Cat out of gear. Everyone’s head snapped forward and back.

            Garrett turned on Michael with irritation, “Michael. That really wasn’t necessary….”

            “No,” Grady interrupted, “That wasn’t possible, and you bent the stick doing it.”

            Michael opened the door and stepped out onto the now stationary track and jumped down onto the ice.

            Jenny insisted, “We have to go now. If you can grab what you want on the way out the backdoor fine. Otherwise, you need to leave it.  We have just enough time to get across before the winds hit us.”

            Garrett and Grady disappeared into the Backseat. Garrett grabbed their parkas out of wet storage. Hurriedly, they dressed, slung their backpacks on and popped out the backdoor. Eight feet in front of the Snow Cat, part of their road had collapsed. The air was dead calm. Grady felt the tension and quickened her pace, with Garrett right beside her.

            “You haven’t been here long, but you feel it, right?”

            Garrett answered, “The urgency? Yeah. I feel it. I don’t know why, but I don’t feel like we can slow down. Still doesn’t make sense.”

            “A lot of things don’t make sense right now,” said Grady, her voice staccato with every step.

            “Look. They’re way ahead. I think we better run.”

            Grady slipped out of her backpack and dashed ahead in full sprint. Garrett followed more slowly with fifty pounds on his back, but still managed to get to the Squeeze just a few steps behind her. The Squeeze was a completely exposed ramp that ran between the ascending ridge on which they had been traveling and the road to High Camp beyond. Both sides of the ramp offered hundreds of feet of freefall to anything missing it. A puff of strong wind blew Grady’s hood back on her shoulders taking her sunglasses with it. She stopped and reached back into her hood to retrieve them, but a strong hand grabbed her elbow and compelled her forward.

            A voice strange to her said, “I have you both. Run with me now!”

            It was a gentle command, but a command nonetheless, and the ground seemed to flow rapidly under their feet almost as if they were flying. Neither Grady nor Garrett could recall precisely how they arrived so suddenly to the other side of the Squeeze and behind the natural wall of stone that marked the end of the ramp. No sooner had the three jogged into the shelter of the pass, then a blast of hurricane force wind sent rock and ice fragments peppering their backs and scuttling around their feet. They stopped at a custom raised van with massive dual rear wheels and a short, narrow ladder that allowed access to the sliding rear door behind the driver. Michael and Jenny waited at the foot of the ladder, a look of grim relief on both of their faces.

            The hooded man, who had guided Garrett and Grady across the ramp, walked forward and hugged Jenny and Michael around the neck, and without turning around, mounted the ladder and swung himself into the driver’s seat and closed the door. The back door automatically slid open and Michael motioned for Grady and Garrett to climb in. They strapped themselves into contoured seats in a row behind Michael and Jenny.

            The van rocketed forward, and without a word to each other, everyone tightened their seat harnesses. It was a punishing ride and Grady half expected a tire to blow or a shock absorber to break, but everything held up under sharp impacts to the front end, with momentary freefalls into hard landings. Hard turns pressed seatbelts into shoulders. Hands grabbed handholds fastened above windows that offered only brief snatches of scenery between blowing snow and walls of ice or rock. Minutes turned into ten, then thirty, and Grady stopped keeping track of time and let her mind wander.

            She looked at Garrett who stared unseeing at the high-backed seat in front of him wondering what occupied his thoughts. Was he thinking of his wife? Anticipating how the meltdown of Greenland would impact their escape? Did all their experience together just come down to data? And did that data give him some clue as to what would happen next? What was it like to not say goodbye to someone you love? But then, from what she had gathered, Garrett regularly said goodbye to his wife. Dr K mentioned some kind of final package he would give to her when he saw her, like a planned for final goodbye.

            A sadness swept over her. She didn’t have anyone to give a package to, nothing to put in it. There might have been someone once, but she had ended that. She had ended that. Now wasn’t the time to revisit a decision now six years past. It didn’t matter. It just didn’t matter anymore.

            Sudden weightlessness. Too long. Crunch and rebound. Tires squealing against fender wells. A hard turn and sudden darkness. Then artificial yellow-orange light. All motion stopped and she breathed again. She could hear the driver get out and the side door next to her slid open. They were in a rock tunnel three times as wide as the van. The squared off ceiling some thirty feet overhead showed dimly in the yellow-orange light.  She followed Jenny out of their side of the van while Michael and Garrett exited the opposite side.  Grady stretched some of the tension out of her legs and back. Jenny smiled and motioned for her to follow. The four of them walked the lighted tunnel toward large doors with bright white lights streaming though full length windows. There was no sign of their driver.

            Beyond the doors, Garrett and Grady found a well-lit hallway of vintage 1940’s construction. Their footsteps echoed on worn vinyl flooring and Garrett could imagine the sound of typewriters tapping away behind frosted glass. It was clear the offices they walked past hadn’t been used in many a decade and not many footsteps had disturbed the accumulated dust for many years. Through the next set of double doors, they found a large room finished with cracked leather couches facing each other in a conversational manner. A large rectangular table surrounded with sturdy wooden chairs sat in the background. Several hallways diverged from this room and suggested a central gathering place to more private living quarters nearby. One expected to find a commercial kitchen beyond the large metal door visible on the far side of the table.

            Garrett unzipped his parka and pealed it off.  It was warm, and soon parkas and fleece sweaters hung on wall hooks near the double doors. He had the sense of being underground. No natural light could be seen in any of the lighted hallways.

            “You’ll find your rooms down that way to your right. You might like a shower. There is plenty of hot water and you’ll find a change of clothes,” said Michael.

            Garrett suddenly realized he had left his backpack behind.

            Jenny responded to his unspoken question, “I think you left it at the pass. I’m sorry it didn’t make it into the van. I hope it didn’t have anything too valuable in it.”

            Garrett shrugged and shook his head, “No. Nothing too valuable. I will miss my journal. Well, it could have been much worse. You know, I meant to thank our driver. It seems his assistance kept us alive back there.”

            Jenny nodded, “You’ll see him again. Right now he has a number of assignments to finish up. Anyway, I’m going to clean up and get comfortable. Food will be available when you want it. Oh!  And your friends Christopher and Kristine. Umm. I’m not sure where they are. We weren’t sure when we’d get back here with you. And they were out doing some exploring. But their rooms are down the same hall as yours.” She paused for a minute as if listening, and then continued, “You know. I might not see you till tomorrow or so. You guys rest well. You’ve been through a lot.”

            She suddenly leaped at her dad who caught her in a long embrace and kissed the top of her head and set her back on the floor. Jenny skipped off into a hallway opposite the way to their rooms and Michael smiled after her.

            As his smile faded, Michael said, “I think I’ll retire as well. You will find hot food in the kitchen which is through that door on the other side of the table there.”

            “Makes my heart warm to see how ya’ll love each other,” said Grady, “but if you don’t mind my sayin’, you don’t look old enough to have a daughter that age. She’s got to be… what? Like 19, maybe 20.”

            “We’ve only been back together for a couple months. We had some close calls when I picked her up from college. Yeah. We’re really grateful to be together again.”

            Then looking back at Grady, he said, “Eressa is good for surprising reunions. I hope you get to know us better in the time to come. But for now, rest well. Jenny’s right. It’s been a rough couple days for you both. Rest well.”

            Michael picked up his parka draped over the back of one of the leather couches and walked off into the lighted hallway, following his daughter.

            Grady turned to Garrett, “Let’s go find my friends, and then we need to talk.”

            “Yes. That we do.”