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hell's the point of keeping the Gap clear if we don't let people
through?"
The trooper shrugged. "Suit yourself. But stay on the right
side of the road from here on. There's two-way traffic. And try not
to freeze to death." Sherrine couldn't tell if his request was sincere
or pro forma.
Mike, of course, couldn't leave well enough alone. "We heard
that a spaceship crashed on the Ice earlier tonight. Do you know
where that was?" She wanted to kick him, but he was out of reach.
The trooper adjusted his sunglasses and Scithers, who had been
turning away, stopped to listen.
"Where did you hear that?" the trooper asked.
Since Mike couldn't exactly mention a tightbeam downlink from
Freedom, he was at a temporary loss for words. And while normally
Sherrine might have enjoyed that, she didn't think a long, strained
silence would be too smart. So she spoke up. "My grandparents live
near Fargo," she said. "They saw a fireball go down on the Ice and
called me and told me about it. As long as these guys were coming
this way to sightsee, I thought I'd tag along and see if I could pick
up some souvenirs."
The trooper rubbed a heavily gloved hand across his chin, and
she wondered why he didn't wear a beard like most men did these
days. Dress policy? "Yeah, we heard about it, too, at the barracks.
Goddam Angels. A couple of planes from Ellsworth flew over a few
hours back; though I don't know what they hoped to see at night.
IR, maybe. Come daylight the glacier'll be crawling with helicopters
and search parties. No rush. Those Angels will be froze dead by
then."
"Froze," she repeated.
"And serves them right, too."
She noticed Mikes jaw twitch an instant before he spoke.
"Why?"
Mike, she thought, don't let your mouth talk us into trouble.
So far, they were just a van load of jerks out joyriding. If the
trooper began to suspect that they were "Angel-loving
technophiliacs," they would be in serious shit.
"Why?" The trooper waved his arm at the glacier. "Because
they started this, asshole! They did it to us. Stealing our air until
the Protective Blanket was too thin to keep us warm."
Captain Scithers nodded. "Damn right," he said. "All that air
they took, hundreds of tons- " His voice was serious.
Sherrine nodded her head as if she agreed. So did Steve and
Will. Thor said nothing, but he twisted his finger in his right ear as
if to unplug it. She prayed to Ghu that Mike would take the hint and
keep quiet.
Bob decided not to trust in Ghu. He put the van in gear. "We
better get going," he said over his shoulder, "if we're going to reach
your grandparents' house in time for breakfast. Thanks for your
help, officer." He gave a wave that was half-salute.
The trooper turned away, but Captain Scithers lingered. He
leaned an elbow on the frame so Bob couldn't roll the window up.
"Thought you might be interested," he said. "The Red River is
pretty much frozen solid north of Perley. Bad news for Winnipeg,
but I heard you could drive a truck across without falling through."
He straightened and nodded to them. "Good luck," he said.
Bob rolled the window up and pulled through the break in the
median into the westbound lanes. Mike frowned and looked out the
rear window, where the engineer captain was deep in conversation
with his lieutenants. "Why the hell should we care about Winnipeg
and the Red River of the North?"
"The Corps has been fighting a losing battle trying to keep I-
94 and I-29 open," Bruce responded. "He probably hasn't thought
about anything else but ice conditions for the last five years."
Thor ran his fingers through his beard. "Must be one hell of a
dinner conversationalist."
"I don't know," said Bob. "Some of the strange stories I've
heard about conditions on the Ice, he must have some weird tales
to tell."
And with that they entered Fargo Gap, the ice on both sides of
the highway rearing straight and high as canyon walls and sparkling
with the reflections of the work lights behind them.
CHAPTER FOUR
Eliza Crossing the Ice
He woke up hard, tried to move, and thought better of it. Memories
flowed back slowly.
Consciousness was a mixed blessing, thought Alex MacLeod.
It meant that he was alive; but it also meant that he hurt. His left
arm throbbed with a dull ache. To draw breath took immense,
frightening effort, and his rib cage burned every time he succeeded.
Groggily, he took inventory. He figured that if a bodily part
hurt, he still had it. By that criterion he had at least come down in
one piece.
He tried to lift his head to see how Gordon was doing.
He couldn't move. Paralyzed? A moment of panic washed over
him as he imagined himself lying here slowly freezing to death,
unable to do anything but wait. But, of course, it was only gravity.
When he realized that, he laughed out loud, which was a mistake,
because his ribs hurt worse than ever.
What difference did it make why he was unable to move?
Helpless was helpless.
He tried the suit radio. "Gordon?"
Static for answer. Gordon must be dead or unconscious. In
either case, there was nothing he could do for him. Come to that,
there wasn't much he could do for himself. He tongued the uplink
on his radio.
"Big Momma? Piranha here."
Hiss and crackle. Maybe the radio was broken. He tried again.
"Big Momma, do you read me?"
Mary's voice came through the noise. "Alex? Is that you?"
Who did she think it was? . . . Churlish. "Big Momma, this is
MacLeod, I am conscious. I do not appear to be seriously injured
except that I cannot move. This must be due to gravity. Tanner
does not respond, I say again, Gordon does not respond. Can you
give me a reading on Gordon?"
"Roger your situation report, MacLeod. Alex, I'm glad to hear
your voice. Stand by one for report on Tanner."
Alex waited while she scanned the medical monitors. Medi-
probes were a pain in the ass- literally- but they had their uses.
He wondered if Mary had been standing by in Mission Control the
whole time he was unconscious, and whether it had been from duty
or something else. That's right, Alex. Build yourself a few fantasies.
You've got nothing else to do.
"Tanner is all right I say again, no serious injuries," she said.
"He's all right, Alex. Unconscious, but his vital signs look good. I
can't tell you about broken bones or such. Your readouts are okay,
too. That was one hell of a landing, Alex. The book says you can't
land a scoopship."
"The book's not far wrong. Where are we, Mary?"
"On what our contacts call the Ice. Not the Great Ice, but the
vanguard glaciers. You're only a few hundred meters from the
Edge. If the ship hadn't stopped, you'd have gone over a ninety
meter ice cliff. Do you want your latitude and longitude?"
"Sure, but I don't see how that will help."
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