Mystery In The Snow

The frigid arctic air blew across the old barge's deck, numbing the several pairs of men that stood on her bows. Each was wrapped tightly in their own wool coats. Though the dark brown, thick clothing, did little to stem the breezes of glacier winds that whipped and lashed out around them. Behind each of their clear goggle masks, they could see only white. Layers upon layers of pure white snow stretched as far as the eye could see. Some grumbled, while others shivered uncontrollably.

More ice cracked and split as the iron hull wedged its way through the floating ice. Man's machine was defying nature's work and was paving a road for his own travel. Feet of cold earth were shattered and parted. The ship, the Iron Brokkr, had ventured this trip many times before. And each time, new dents and scratches were made to her plates. Each cut had a story to tell from the seas; an ageless lifetime of sailing.

"So does anyone know the big secret to where we are heading?" one of the short, more portly men, yelled out to his gathered comrades.

He awaited for a few minutes, but no answer came. The rest of the Russian men were mute. Their expressions reflected the same blankness that befell him. Gaafa Tolya shrugged from the lack of reply. The men were about as dumb as he was on their reasons for being here. He tightened his jacket before he walked away from the group, straying to see a bit more of the ship. But no sooner had he taken a few steps, than a voice called out his name.

"Mr. Tolya, if I were you I would stay with the others," the cry howled among the winds. "It would be better if you didn't ask so many question as of yet."

Gaafa flushed with anger at the remarks. His face turned momentarily red for a second. Lips pursed as he prepared to defend himself to the mysterious figure that sought to dictate his movements.

"And who would you be," the grizzly Russian barked back at the figure that strode forward from the cabin's open door. The man was decked out in Russia's full military garb. The black brimmed hat shadowed the thin and narrow face. While the individual's dark gray crisp suit flapped in the wind. The man's body was like stone, standing motionless against icicle breezes that carried across the deck.

"My name is Boris Yaroslav, your commander for this little expedition," the lean muscled devil growled. "Our motherland has put me in charge, and I will see that it is a success."

"In charge of what," another one of the men asked, his voice cracking in fear from the omnipotent human's form.

Boris sat in silence for a moment. Contemplating how close the ship was to its destination. It was only a matter of minutes before they would be close enough to reach. The men might as well be told of what they will do. No harm could be done at this time.

"Alright then," the sinew lips whispered back. "Located approximately five miles away from us right now, is an arctic base. Created and named by our government as Mjöllnir's Summit. It hosts some of the most advanced radar technology on the planet. You are to replace some of the men immediately. Their work, is not progressing far enough for my expectations. Russia's future depends upon the success of this facilities work."

"Well, I don't know about the rest of these men," Gaafa spoke out, interrupting the solider in mid speech. "But I am a seismologist. My particular studies are focused to predicting strengths and areas of volcanic tremors. That is until I was yanked away from my studies. So I fail to see what my work could possibly do…"

"Silence," the general roared. "These men on board are needed to complete my crew at the base. You however, are needed for other reasons. Recently there has been a small series of quakes that have struck the area. So far the only thing that has been identified from these mysterious tremors is a rise in volcanic heat. It is hoped by my superiors, that you can find out why these tremors have been hitting the area suddenly. And see if there is any way to stop and prevent them from interfering with the delicate sonar readings of my station."

"Why was this base made," the chubby scientist poked and probed further. His eyes raised in speculation from what the real truth would be.

"For the protection of our homeland," the shadowed man snarled. "You men have been chosen to serve your people, in the greatest way possible. What you do in the coming time, will save your children, save your fellow man. And once again reclaim the name to Russia that it deserves. No enemy will ever threaten us again. We will have the eyes of God himself and be able to see what our enemies are planning."

Gaafa stayed quite for the next few seconds. Debating whether it would be in his best interest so far, to argue about this feeble story. He did not believe that this base was just for monitoring purposing. Such secrecy would not be used if that were the case. The government would not so dearly pull him from his work, if these mysterious earthquakes did not threaten something far more valuable. His heart shivered at the mere thought of what it could be potentially.

Suddenly the barge creaked to a stop. The sound of protesting, twisted metal, resounded the end of the journey. Men shook a little from the hasty jolt. But the demanding Russian General stood surefooted. His thin lips and cat like eyes gleamed briefly. They shinned through the human complex, a devilish visage. Gaafa caught a glimpse of the face, and it made him even more scared. This would be a time to remember in Russia's history for sure. How that was to be read; only time would tell that.

From his vantage point, the captain of The Iron Brokkr, watched diligently as General Boris Yaroslav and his cast of men were lowered from the side of the ship. The makeshift pulley ropes, also descended several large vehicles and groups of soldiers. Even from his deck, the gray haired seaman, could hear the soft rattling of the jeeps engines as they fought the cold to stay warm and running. The groaning creaks of the man-made machines echoed their true purpose with the military soldiers. It was almost as if the men and machines were expecting an evil to descend upon them. The captain could smell the faint wisps of death that hung around the war tested transports. The power they emoted. He could literally taste the blood they had spilled. The Russian soldiers stood like forged steel as they finally made contact with the ice's surface. Meanwhile, the war forged General watched with weathered eyes.

"They seem to know what is going to await them at that base," a voice whispered from behind the stone captain.

Lev Oleg listened warmly, while his trusted wheelman continued.

"This has been one of the worst years I have seen these waters. The ice is unusually thick. And the air, you can barely breathe in it. There have also been a high number of blizzards and unusual storm activity. If Hell ever froze over I imagine this is what it would be like."

"I know Rustam, I've noticed it as well," Lev sighed. "You know the difficulty I had at assembling a crew to man the boat. Most of the elder seaman refused to set sail. Their superstitious minds told them that death was about. One even went as far to try and damage the engine room. He was ranting about some ice demon that would come. And that we, would lead it to Russia. He could have almost wiped out all of the morale in an instant."

Rustam's mind flashed back to that day. He was one of the men that had to wrestle a wrench from that crazed being. He remembered feeling sorry for the old man. His eyes were crying and mouth was babbling of unseen horrors that waited for the ship, and maybe all mankind. He had to be dragged out, clawing and kicking from the hull. Thank god that the ship's crew did not see the hysteria. Their morale would have been destroyed surely if they had heard the warnings of the demented mortal. But he couldn't shake the feelings that drugged his soul. Something was in those slurred and frantic screams, a truth begged to be honored. To be accepted. Yet now it was too late. Half of their trip was already completed, and Rustam could not wait to finish the rest. The less time they spent in this arctic wasteland, the better.

"We might have to wait a while before we can return," the captain breathed in his freezing speech. "We ventured too far into the ice. It will take time for the hands to chip away enough of it to allow us to backtrack."

The Wheelman cursed in his gut, damning the fate that would keep him here for longer. With a short puff, he put it behind him and stared off, out the port side of the deck to spy the scientists. Their gear was finally secured down, jeeps strapped up, and ready to go. Within minutes, the group of men were off; skidding into the frothing snows. The sands of time trickled by quickly for Rustam and soon they were out of sight. They disappeared into the vast unknown.

"Get the men started immediately," the seaman ordered.

Quickly, his first mate exited the room, and descended the steps. He would fulfill and carry out his captain's request. This trip could not last any longer than he wished it to be.

Winds lapped and beat against the Russian scientists. It clubbed with fists of cold against their woolen forms; turning their cheeks to bright rosy weathered jowls. They tried to bury their heads in their scarves, but the attempts were less than fulfilling. The men just had to endure the swamping frost for the time being. Even the fearful General was tucked away in his jeep; wrapped in the guise of seal furs. His eyes though, still were piercing. Cutting their gaze across the frozen tundra and never blinking. His one mission and goal was to arrive at the base. His superiors would be pleased, if he was able to handle this little situation quickly.

Suddenly a voice spoke to the curled up Gaafa. "Hey."

The stout geologist looked over in surprise at his traveling partner in the back of the solider driven vehicle. The Russian man was quite young, maybe in his mid twenties, Gaafa guessed. His face was adorned with a thick pair of black-rimmed glasses. His features, screamed the enthusiasm that was his soul, but at this time, that was not something to admire. The volcano expert waved warmly back and smiled, which only began the deepening conversation that would follow.

"My name is Vadim Kirill," the stranger spoke lightly.

"My name is Gaafa Tolya," he replied back.

Silence then followed, but Vadim would not let it stay. "So, how did they manage to rope you into this?"

Gaafa chuckled at the obvious question, yet wanted to end the quiet that dwelt in the air. Knowing who the men where, that he would be working with, might better help him piece together the mystery that was hanging about this mission. Besides, the man seemed genuinely friendly and inviting. It might be beneficial to have a friend on this trip to bounce ideas off of.

"An old comrade of mine approached me at the university I worked at," he began. "He told me of something that I admit to have trouble swallowing. It seems that this base is full of a lot of secrecy. A few months ago, an earthquake struck, about a hundred miles away. However, since then, the epicenter has been moving."

"Moving," the young lad gasped. "But that's preposterous. I might not be an expert of geology, but I know that an earthquakes epicenter does not move."

"Quite right," Gaafa retorted back to the interruption. "And this, "epicenter" has slowly been moving towards the facility that we are heading too. Another interesting fact, that has been found, is that the temperature of the water, around these quakes as been steadily rising. I guess this is why the government readily jumped at the idea that this was some sort of arctic volcano."

"You sound like you don't believe that is the case," Vadim said, with a hint of suspicion.

"I don't," the rock scientist breathed. "There is no data collected from anywhere that would attribute this phenomenon to a volcano. There are no signs of thermal gas or Maguma. No I believe something else is causing this event. And I am determined to find out what that is. So why are you here, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I thought you never ask," Vadim deemed proudly. "I work with bones. Well, ancient bones. I'm a paleontologist."

The chunky volcanologist's eyebrows rose in suspension. He was surely perplexed on the man's profession and the reasons why he would be needed at a radar station. This new information only deepened the enigma that hung about the military mission at hand.

"Several military personal approached me at my home in the middle of the night and took me into custody," the young man recounted his memories. "Couple of hours later Mr. Sourpuss over there, that you spoke with earlier, showed me a huge six feet long ancient bone. Believe it or not but it was a tooth! From the size it would make it the one of the largest animals that has ever lived on this planet. I couldn't very well pass that up. So he asked for my help and I accepted. I'm hoping this trip is going to be my ticket into the real academic world."

"That is assuming that the government allows you to publish your findings," the older man whispered back. "I mean this is a military base and mission. You honestly think they will let you tell the world of your findings?"

The once smiling youth suddenly went blank. The idea of not being able to tell the world of the largest extinct animal to ever live on this planet had never occurred to him. His toothy grin slowly transformed into a depressing frown.

"I never thought of that…," he sighed. "Oh well, I will figure something out. You just leave it up to me."

Overhead, the sun beat down. It scarcely did anything to warm the lands. The burning star lit the ground, bathing the void less white snow, in hues of amber and scarlet. They traveled, for what seemed a timeless journey. The staring glares, the numbing draft, and lack of sleep, all added to the hellish destination. The dwarfish intelligent man thought they would never see the end, until his watery eyes perceived the building that lay ahead. Through the hail of cloudy snow his almond irises could make out the dull gray and silver armored covers. He could also see that something was fowl. As he neared the base, the details became clearer. The windows were broke, their fragments spewed across the grounds. Parts of the walls were collapsed, shattered and ravaged. It looked as if an ogre's hammer had come down and crushed the facility into dust. Leaving nothing left to stand against its testament of strength.

"What the hell happened," he murmured to his self. "What could have done this?"

Deep down inside, Gaafa really did not want to find out. For if ignorance is bliss, than he wanted none of the truth. However he might not have any power over that decision.

Within minutes, the rest of the group arrived at the site. Each with their mouths gapped open in awe. Wires half buried in snow, doors torn off their hinges. Even the wicked, Boris Yaroslav was dumbfounded. His mind danced at the images that greet him. His eyes darted back and forth, from one shredded wall to the next. All around he could see strewn out computer counsels.

"Impossible," the veteran solider gasped. "That thing could not have done this!"

Gaafa craned his head towards the forceful soldier at the sudden outburst. The man said that "this thing" could not have done this. He had no idea of what the general was talking about, What was "this thing" he was raging about?

"This was no earthquake," Gaafa Tolya replied back. "There is no sign of the ground being shifted. Something else did this. I suggest that we leave, we can do no good here any longer."

"No," Boris protested with authority. "You forget who is in charge here, Mr. Tolya. We still have an obligation to complete. There is valuable information in that wreck of a building. And we are going to get it. I will radio to the ship, to hold their course. But until then, you men are going to find and recover as much data as you can.

"You can't be serious," the portly Russian yelled back against the orders. "We are not soldier's dammit. We are scientist, we are civilians. This is a job for the military. This place has been attacked. Hell, where are the men that were here before. There is no sign of life at all."

"There job is to find that data," the General snapped back venomously. "That is what they were assigned to do, no matter the conditions. You are to find out what is causing that earthquake that is approaching us. The men before probably were lost in a blizzard. Anyhow, that makes no difference. Now unless you want to spend the rest of your miserable lives in prison for treason against your country, I would suggest you start. You have a lot of rubble to get through.

The group quivered in dismay at the cold condescending tone of the warrior. His voice carried no remorse for the lives that no longer were here. The area screamed with besieged murder, and the man felt nothing of it. His heart was as cold as the air around him. The organ was set in stone, and shed no tear for any loss. The educated men really didn't know which to dread. The obvious killing that had taken place or the man that stood among them, and screamed for work. Ignoring the safety of all, terrine now commanded this base. It was shadowed in the form of a madman.