Girl in Ice(9)

“Sure.”

“Because even if we got rid of fossil fuels tomorrow, which we won’t, fix everything that’s broken, which we can’t, the problem is, no one can fix human nature. We’re greedy, selfish, stupid, so, so fucking stupid, and shortsighted by nature. And that’s what’s going to kill us all. Hopefully.”

I stood and zipped my briefcase shut, snapped off my lamp. The lights from the soccer field filled the room with an eerie yellow glow.

“What do you want me to do about it?”

He chewed on a fingernail, assessed me. Scratched a bug bite on his leg; a constellation of red marks covered one thigh. Has he been sleeping outside? Eyes on the soccer field, he asked, “Can I stay with you tonight?”

I sagged a bit, leaning on the back of my chair, feet aching in my pumps. “Well—why? Can’t you go home?”

Andy’s eye twitched. “Sasha kicked me out.” He swirled the dregs of Red Bull and sucked it down.

“For Christ’s sake—”

He jumped to his feet. “You know what, Val? I will not bring children into this world.” He jabbed his finger in my direction as if I’d been badgering him about this. “I will not do it. Sasha’s been riding me on this for months, and it all came to a head, and so, fuck it.” He plopped back down in his seat, crossed an ankle over a knee, waggling his big Teva’d foot crazily. “I’ve got a better plan anyway.”

I sat back down; my overstuffed leather chair giving a little poof of defeat beneath me. This was bad. Andy plus “a better plan” always equaled sirens and flashing red lights. We both drank too much; the difference was he did it in public.

“You’re tapping my last nerve, Andy.”

“Come on, Val. Hear me out.”

I propped my chin in my hands. “What’s the plan?”

Frenzied hope took over, animating his face. “It’s about Wyatt.”

I raised an eyebrow: Go on.

“He’s stationed in Tarrarmiut. It’s an uninhabited island off the northwest coast of Greenland. He’s still doing his climate change study, getting some of the oldest ice core samples of anybody up there, but he’s discovered something amazing. Totally by accident. Something to do with his pet mouse, honest to God. I wish I could tell you more, but I can’t. Val, this is going to change everything. You’ve heard about the ice winds, haven’t you? It’s been in the news. Those three hikers in the White Mountains in New Hampshire who froze to death instantly? One minute it was forty degrees near the top of Mount Washington, the next it was thirty-five below zero, and that was it. They didn’t have a chance. Didn’t know what hit them. Died instantly. Midsentence. Midthought.”

I pictured the press photo of the hikers. It was taken from the back, shadowy and dark. Two men and a woman frozen to death in the act of climbing, the woman with her arm midreach, about to grasp at a tree branch along the trail. Beyond the three figures, Mount Washington’s snowy peak loomed, a destination they would never reach.

“That was some kind of freak thing.”

“It was not a freak thing, Val. I wish it was, but it’s starting to happen all over. Look, katabatic winds are a temperature gradient thing. In Greenland, they’re called piteraqs. They come down off the glaciers, hurricane strength, unbelievably cold, but no one lives on the glaciers, so not a lot of people know about them. Now, with climate change, they’re starting to happen all over the world—”

“I haven’t heard—”

“They’re covering it up because they don’t know how to stop it and they don’t want people to panic!”

“?‘They’?”

“I’m not paranoid, Val.” He ran a trembling hand through untamed hair. “I may be a fucking nut, but I’m not—”

“What does Wyatt want from you?”

“Another scientist in the room. Someone to verify his findings. Someone to bounce ideas off of.”

“He has Jeanne. Isn’t she a researcher too?”

“Jeanne’s a grunt. She keeps the snowcat going, the pipes from freezing. She’s not a scientist,” he added with a touch of Chesterfield arrogance.

“How long will you be there?”

“As long as it takes.”

“As long as it takes for what, exactly?”

“To verify his findings. To get the proof we need.”

I started to feel queasy. “But, Andy, in a few weeks, it’s going to be nearly impossible to get out of there. Remember when that happened to Dad when we were kids? He went to Antarctica and the weather turned and—”

“This is the Arctic, it’s different.”

“He had to winter over. Eighty degrees below zero and dark for six months. Mom almost left him.” I fingered the soft leather of my briefcase, itching to leave.

“Be serious. Mom would never have—”

“Come on, Andy, don’t do this.”

“Dad wants me to go.”

“Fine. Did you tell him what this is really about? You know, everything you’re not telling me?”

Andy shrugged, picked at a scab on his arm, then lifted and let drop his torn sleeve as if just noticing it. “He trusts me when I say this is going to make a difference for mankind.”