Three Years Ago
…"What a nice little band we're becoming, robin hood and his merry men." Private smiled looking on at the six strong group in the midst of the crowd of other excited arctic explorers wanting breakfast (and their table). It was just like New York in a lot of ways, I have to say. There was a sad tinge to Private's smile though. This would be our last breakfast together for some time, even if things had gone to plan.
"And woman." Hans added across the table nodding to the female member of the group who rolled her eyes.
"I still figure dames don't belong on an expedition like this." Skipper muttered. He and his partner Rico were stood further back from the table leaning against a stack of crates, Rico cleaning and loading a shotgun, Skipper tinkering with some piece of gear.
"I've got brains, not just looks, and I'll bet I'm a hell of a lot tougher than you are!" Doris retorted. Doris never had much time for Skipper as we neared the end of the trip, for obvious reasons, though I, myself, had actually grown to like gruff, dry witted military… well, we weren't exactly sure where he came from, only that he was here to guard Private. Skipper went to rebut the claim that she was tougher, but Doris wasn't done, "And can I offer you another friendly reminder the year is 2010, not 1950?" Skipper muttered something about being very well aware of the date, and went back to messing with some piece of equipment of another. He was particularly grumpy that day, quiet too, like he was thinking about something, his mood seems trivial in hindsight. So trivial.
I'm getting ahead of myself, putting Heisenberg's uncertainty principle before Newton's first law.
I should introduce our little group as we were that sunny day, freshly arrived in the wilds of Antarctica – Leopard Seal country – enjoying breakfast, our last breakfast for some of us, on the submarine before we went our respective ways. I haven't introduced myself yet, probably the best place to start traditionally – those of me who know me well will have deduced from my absentmindedness that I'm tinkering with something in my lab as I write this (I may have also forgotten to carry the two at the same time) – so I'll start there: my name's Kowalski, I've got a longer name but you probably already know it and if you don't it's completely irrelevant and unnecessary. A couple of years before this I'd graduated with a string of degrees related to engineering and applies sciences, egregia cum laude, naturally, and it was around then I'd met Hans and we'd decided to risk it all searching for the gold at the end of the rainbow. Black gold, oil. We never found that, but we found something almost as good, though at the same time as I'd lose something worth more to me than all the money in the world.
Hans, as I mentioned before, was what can only be described as an 'explorer' – me as well, since we worked as partners - at the time. He'd gotten a tip from a friend who was too drunk to know he was giving a tip that there was something to be found on the fringes of Leopard Seal country and we'd packed up the returns from our last minor gold vein and sunk it all into this. He had a friend in the diplomatic service, who had a friend headed out there and so somehow he wangled us onto this trip.
'Private' as we all called him was the friend of Hans' friend in the diplomatic service, a young "fresh-faced, idealistic and too naive for his own good pencil pusher playing at Commodore Danger", Skipper described him as. He actually didn't do too badly and managed to put Penguin and the Leopard Seal colonies on better terms. Rico had once told me something about Private's having had a shady past in the underground mini golf rackets, but Private was too young to have had any kind of a shady past and just didn't seem like the type.
Skipper and Rico were assigned to Private, who, against all probability, somehow managed to get along with them, to make sure he got to Antarctica alive. I'd asked near the beginning of the trip what use just the two of them would be against Leopard Seal if something went wrong but Private had just scoffed and said "plenty." By the time I'd reached Antarctica I'd heard from six people (now in the medical bay) who'd tried to pick a fight with either or both of them that they'd barely know what had happened between throwing the first punch and extreme physical pain. Of course, two armed, highly trained penguin commandos whose flippers alone were deadly weapons could only go as far as we'd gone for diplomatic reasons and Private was going to have to conduct his negotiations alone. Thus, rather than sit around the submarine for two weeks like they were supposed to waiting for him, they'd opted to tag along with me, Hans and Doris.
Ah, Doris. Doris was a marine biologist, a brilliant one in my opinion having read her paper on the effect of Leopard Seal overfishing on the salmon populations of Alaska, but that was just what she did for a living. No, to me she was the most beautiful girl in the world. Physically she had perfect features in line with the ideal human facial proportions, height and lack of physique consistent with what most people believe to be aesthetically attractive and eyes I'd often lose myself in. But there was something else that Private says he considers the mark of true love: that something extra that draws two people together entirely illogically but inextricably. At the time I believed that if something couldn't be quantified and analysed it didn't exist, and it wasn't until I met her I discovered there is an exception to that rule. I'd only known Doris for the duration of the trip but I knew she was the one for me already. I'd love her as long as she lived. In fact, I'd proposed to her a few days before. She'd accepted.
It was a long, gruelling journey through frigid temperatures, treacherous slopes and uncharted territory. Skipper and Rico loved it, and Doris and Hans considered it worth it for their respective goals, but I personally would have highly proffered to have been in my lab. When I'd said that to Skipper he'd called me a Nancy Cat and when I'd grumbled about that to Hans he'd replied that I wouldn't find any kind of treasure in a lab. Skipper, despite what I've said so far, was great to have on the trip, even if he did tell one too many stories about Manfredi and Johnson. He saved my life at least twice and taught me how to do all that fancy climbing stuff I'd needed to traverse the vast expanses of ice.
Doris soldiered on as focused and single minded as she would become at times like this. I figure that was how she managed to get through a PhD whilst still fighting actively for her brother's case – apparently he'd been accused of plagiarizing his thesis and his doctorate was in jeopardy. She really wanted to find those Actinopterygii specimens. While the expedition was supposed to be mostly mine and Hans' she ended up leading the way. I didn't mind in the least, and oddly enough neither did Skipper.
This is the part that changed my life, both in a trivial way and important way. We tried an inlet where Doris hoped to find some of this rare specimen she was after but it didn't happen. Instead that was when me and Hans found our treasure, namely more fish than we'd ever seen in our lives, enough to make us very comfortable for a long time if we managed to snag the fishing rights for a song like we undoubtable could. That should give you a measure of how important what happened next was if that was trivial.
We were confronted with a sheer face of ice, practically, with the occasional ledge but nothing else. I never really processed what happened next despite the fact I memorized every report and fact and sat through the whole coroner's hearing and was actually there. Hans had me see a therapist and she gave me a lot of fancy names and stuff, post-traumatic stress syndrome was a common one, but there wasn't much she could do to bring back Doris.
I was already quite far up that section of cliff with Skipper and Rico. In fact, me and Rico were already started on the third and final section and so were unable to get down fast enough to help when it happened. Skipper had just gotten up the second, standing at the top of the ledge, about to start belaying Doris and Hans below. Hans was waiting and glancing at his watch impatiently and Doris had just set her feet on the ground after conquering the drop before that. It was only Skipper down there and a whole lot of bad luck, but he did his best, more than I'd expect any man could do. I don't blame him at all.
Doris took a step forward onto the ice proper and suddenly it all cracked away under her meagre weight, the straw that broke the camel's back. It was amazing to watch as the whole floor of ice crumbled away beneath them when a single air pocket riddled section of ice, the keystone of the whole structure, collapsed. The two only fell a few feet thanks to their harnesses and were hanging over the edge of the abyss at a dead drop from the side of the cliff.
Skipper hadn't been ready to take the weight, he had been fixing the belaying equipment at the time, and when they fell Skipper was attached on too and was being pulled over the edge. He managed to grab hold of a small crack in the ice or something and disentangled himself from the rope, but he kept holding on to them though it was practically killing him. The ice face had actually slanted outwards so there was no hope of either of them regaining footing and the gigantic black maw below Doris seemed to go on forever. Even before Skipper said it we knew one of them had to be cut. Skipper could pull up either Hans - barely - or Doris, but he couldn't take the weight of both. And we didn't have long to decide either before he lost his grip on the rope and both of them tumbled to their deaths or they pulled him over. Me and Rico were racing down to help him but we knew we wouldn't make it in anywhere near enough time. They had seconds.
Doris already had the knife out and was about to... when Hans shouted at her to stop and put her knife away. He was going to do it. Hans later told me he'd seen that special, unexplainable thing between me and Doris. We were just business partners and while he was sad to admit it he didn't really have anyone not on this expedition who'd miss him more than they'd want the life insurance policy on him.
Hans went to slice the line when suddenly Doris screamed and the rope below him snapped or one of the clips broke, as the inquest later determined – an anomaly fault in the steel. The world seemed to speed up for me even though these kinds of things are supposed to be in slow motion. I saw her face, her eyes wide with fear and then she was gone, vanished into the black hole beneath her.
We broke every rule in the book going down to look for her, but we went down and down and never found her. Eventually, Skipper said enough was enough. We could hear a stream of water, a tributary or something that gurgling down at the bottom. He figured she'd been washed down a stream in the ice out to sea.
It's unrealistic, but every time I close my eyes I can see her still form freezing over, ice sealing in her broken, pale body in at a remarkable rate like a coffin.
Now
"I told you he'd be late." Skipper spoke as the head and shoulders of the familiar face barely appeared above the crowd at the entrance of the Zoo. Private was glancing left and right and just about stuttering as he asked if anyone had seen them.
"I told you he'd be nervous and he is." Hans commented.
"Cor' ee nervous." Rico scoffed over the noise of the crowd, "ee Private."
"I'd have picked somewhere that didn't remind him of Mr Tux, but Marlene practically begged me to attend her opening." Kowalski apologised, "I estimate it will take him approximately 35.7746 seconds to find us." he added, though he said it quietly. He'd assured Marlene he had nowhere near the mathematical abilities to count cards effectively on Zoo 'game nights' and that would be just the kind of thing that would prove he could. Nothing galled him more than to have to hide his genius, but he wanted to be able to impress Skipper with something. At least, that was what Hans theorised he was thinking. But then Kowalski had been unusually quiet that entire evening even though he'd been the one to suggest the little get together on hearing that Skipper and Rico were on leave and Private was in the country at the same time.
"In the meantime, Skipper, I forgot to ask you about your new posting." Hans asked studying the table and deciding on red just before "no more bets" was called.
"Ask a classified question and you'll get a classified answer, Hans." Skipper replied. Hans shrugged, "I'll tell you this, though, it beats sitting around boardrooms and talking about fish, even if it's a lot of fish."
"It certainly does," Hans sighed. He looked over at Kowalski who was intently examining the floor, "We yearn for the good old days of adventure and mayhem, don't we?" And, for the first time in long enough Skipper had been starting to get worried, Kowalski looked up, seemingly angry.
"It was those good old days of..." He paused and seemed to check himself, "They were alright, statistically." He abandoned his chair and started off through the crowd towards the exit. Private, who'd just arrived loaded with stories of the far east, gave skipper an odd look.
"He's alright, Private, I think he just needs some time to himself." Skipper muttered in reply, but contrary to his statement started off through the crowds after Kowalski.
He caught up to him just outside the closed door where you could still hear the noise of game night, but only soft murmurs on the summer night air. It was nice weather, summers in New York could get pretty scorching, but today was just right.
"Doris, I'm guessing." Skipper inquired and Kowalski barely acknowledged him, ""It was those good old days of adventure and mayhem that got Doris killed."" He finished where Kowalski had trailed off. Kowalski nodded, just barely, "It's not that common, but sometimes the equipment goes wrong and there's nothing you can do about it."
"I know, I've never blamed you."
"I didn't mean me."
"I don't blame myself either."
"Yeah, right."
"The 99.998% of my brain that I have impeccable control of is well aware of the fact that…"
"But the whatever per cent left over thinks you could have done something, that's always the way." Skipper cut him off.
"How would you know, that's 'always the way'." Kowalski countered, suddenly on guard. Being 'not alone', one in a million worked for a lot of people, but he was a genius. It insulted him somehow to be not to be unique, just in there with the rest. It was a superiority complex, but he'd worked hard to be superior. He figured he deserved it.
"Not while you still blow up inventions, you aren't superior." Skipper countered Kowalski's unspoken sentiment and Kowalski outright scowled at him, "Hans told me about those. He says the fellows in the other labs look at their watches, nod gravely at each other, tie down anything breakable and wait for 'fire in the hole!'."
"You make explosions for a living, or is that Rico, who are you to judge?" Kowalski replied. It was a flawed and easily countered defence but Skipper seemed stymied, that, or he'd had enough of arguing and knew it wouldn't stop till the scientist won. No, that didn't sound like Skipper. Or was that just his bruised ego telling him that? No, prior experience showed that skipper never backed away from a fight. All that rushed through his head in barely a fraction of a second and he was back to Doris again.
"I once knew a girl…" Skipper trailed off, "You never forget them, if that's what you're waiting to happen. They're always with you somewhere."
"What happened to her?" Kowalski asked on impulse. Skipper's expression darkened and he didn't reply. Thoughtlessly, Kowalski was going to press him for an answer, he had a sudden craving to know, but Hans poked his head out of the door, interrupting them.
"You two alright?" Hans asked.
"Yeah, yeah sure." Skipper replied vaguely believably and Hans smiled. Skipper smiled back and gave him a loving peck on the cheek, "No need to be jealous of Kowalski, though I'm flattered by it. I'll be back in a minute. Keep Rico from blowin' up Marlene's place on opening night, okay?" Hans went back inside.
"You and Hans?" Kowalski asked. Skipper shrugged.
"As of the start of my leave, yes. Me and him have got a lot of things in common. Come on, I've got to get you back to card counting for me." He started off down the road again and Kowalski followed, "It's been fun while it's lasted, but that's all it's gonna be. I'm away too much, same as Private and Cupid, though he likes to convince himself he's there for her. If you promise not to tell, I know from a reliable source she's cheating on him."
"Skipper." Kowalski paused, "I've got a headache…" He automatically cursed himself for such a bad excuse but Skipper seemed happy to run with it.
Kowalski really hadn't been feeling well. Headaches, he got headaches when he thought too hard and for too long about Doris. He was tired but couldn't sleep and eventually settled out under the stars on the balcony, but he still couldn't sleep and he couldn't think about Doris or inventions or the price of fish either. He grabbed the latest Invexpo journal but read one word and forget the one he'd read before, eventually realizing he was deciphering word after word having no idea what the article was about. He needed something that didn't need much thinking, something he normally wouldn't read. He grabbed an old newspaper he'd picked up somewhere to cover the countertop while he reacted a couple of handy chemicals on a whim and took a glance at the cover. It was a picture of Notre Dame, once again he couldn't make even make sense of the headline, but Notre Dame was pretty. He'd been there, once…? twice…? maybe three times before, with Hans. He'd wanted to go to Paris with Doris. He winced. His head really did hurt.
Then he saw it. At first he thought it was his imagination but even then he compulsively went for the magnifying glass and examined the bottom corner of the photograph. He just about dropped the newspaper and the magnifying glass in shock. Immediately he made a dive for his phone, the only thing he could possibly think of doing, and called Hans.
"Yes?" The Dane grumbled into the phone.
"She's alive, Hans, I don't know how but she was standing in front of Notre Dame on…" he checked the date, "yesterday!"
