Throughout the previous night, Helen had remained on the bridge with me. At intervals she had brought me cups of boiling cocoa. She had talked little, and before the predawn cloud had begun to obscure the sky, the hard stars were blue points in her eyes. Following the explosion, I had brought Upton, Walter and Bjerko on the bridge, but after a time, when I saw there was no immediate danger, I had Sailhardy lock them up again. Upton had been morose, unspeaking, completely withdrawn. Apart from the trouble of guarding the men, I was glad to get rid of his sullen ill-temper. He and Helen had not spoken to each other. The disaster had had exactly the opposite effect on Pirow's temperament. He was tireless and brilliantly efficient, and during the long hours he had sat glued to his radio I had had an insight into his perverted genius. It seemed to make no difference to him that I had chained him up; action at his beloved instruments stimulated and engrossed him as he relayed to me reports on the catchers, their position on the troublesome radar and Thorshammer's signals.
The night signals were, however, of little significance after the one Pirow had passed on to me immediately after the explosion. Thorshammer had ordered Reidar Bull, Hanssen and Lars Brunvoll to seize me, Upton, Pirow and Walter. The skippers, said the message, were to rendezvous with the destroyer at Bouvet Island and hand us over.
There was nothing we could do but await their coming. We had no escape. I had told only Helen and Sailhardy what Thorshammer intended to do. What I was at a loss to understand, however, was why Thorshammer had not come 126 herself. Why order the catcher captains to arrest us? Where was Thorshammer now? What was she about that was more important? From Pirow I could get no reply. He had blamed sunspot interference on the radio, and fragments which he passed on to me were too garbled to be comprehensible.
Sailhardy, Helen and I stood on the bridge as the first burdened men started to climb down a hastily-rigged gangplank and scrambling-net, following the path of the marker flags to the platform. The wind had not risen nearly as much as I had expected, but it was enough to carry a series of fine snow-flurries and reduce visibility intermittently to a few hundred yards. I did not know where the catchers were. Nor had I any idea of the extent of the icefield. Pirow had been trying for hours to try and pin-point the catchers.
Impatiently I picked up the phone to Pirow. " Any radar contacts yet? Where the hell are those ships, Pirow? If any man can find them, you can, either by radio or radar." His tone had never varied, and it showed no traces of his shift of nearly fifteen hours. " No contacts, Herr Kapitan." A slight note of irony crept into the level voice. "I appreciate your compliment."
I wondered again how much of Kohler's unequalled success had been due to the misdirected genius at the other end of my line. We had respected Kohler, the humane if deadly hunter, but we had feared the implacable Man with the Immaculate Hand.
" Keep trying," I said. " Report the slightest sign of them to me."
" Aye, aye, Herr Kapitan."
Helen said quickly: " Let me go and look for them in the helicopter, Bruce! That would give you something definite to go on, once you knew what they were doing." I glanced at the snow-filled sky. " The only distance you are going to fly that machine is from here to the platform. By this afternoon it will be a full gale. If Thorshammer wants us, let her or the catcher boys come and get us. You're staying right here!"
" Let me do something!" she exclaimed. " Shall I fly off now?-to the platform. It is quite light enough."
" Yes," I agreed reluctantly. " For heaven's sake be careful, though. I've ordered the men to have some full fuel drums there ready to lash the machine to. Otherwise it might blow away later."
She smiled. " I've been trained for just this, you know."
" Not in the Southern Ocean," I replied.
" Bruce," she went on, " when-and if-the skippers come, what are you going to do about my father? Are you simply going to hand him over
…?"
I shrugged. " Our first problem is simply to survive. You forget, I'm in the same boat. Thorshammer wants me as much as your father and Walter. It's only my word against theirs-I'm supposed to have shot down the seaplane."
" Bruce!" broke in Sailhardy. " Perhaps this sounds a little wild, but it won't be difficult. Let us take the whaleboat, you and I. We can carry her across the ice to the sea. She's light. There are plenty of supplies. We can make Bouvet, you and I. She'll stand up to any weather."
I looked deep into Helen's strange eyes. Putting aside the fact that such an escape would brand me guilty anyway, she knew and I knew that to leave the other now was no longer possible.
I laughed it off. " You're trying to be another Shackleton or Bligh, Sailhardy. We belong in less heroic times."
" Shackleton survived seven hundred and fifty miles in and ordinary open ship's boat…" he began, " and Bouvet is less than one hundred…"
I cut him short more harshly than I intended. " You are under my orders, Sailhardy. We stay. The same goes for you, Helen. Now fly off that machine. Watch yourself." She smiled. " Aye, aye, Herr Kapitan," she mocked. I was so intent on making sure Helen took off safely from the canted deck that I did not notice the three figures emerge from a snow-flurry and make their way to the gangplank. The roar of the helicopter's rotors was over my head after a perfect take-off before I saw the crew of the Antarctica start to fall back round the gangplank.
Reidar Bull, Hanssen and Lars Brunvoll strode through the men. There was no mistaking their purposefulness, or the grim, bitter anger in their snow-streaked faces. Nor was there any mistaking the purpose of the Schmeisser machinepistol Reidar Bull held. A man was coming down the gangplank shouldering a sack, and Reidar Bull thrust him roughly to one side with an oath. Reidar Bull was big, and not unlike Walter, but now it was his hand which I noticed for the first t i m e . F r o m h i s l e f t h a n d, g r i p p i n g t h e b a r r e l o f t h e Schmeisser, three fingers were gone-at some time a faulty harpoon cable must have ripped them off. Hanssen, tall and blond, followed Reidar Bull up the side, and Lars Brunvoll, 128 black bearded, brought up the rear. The men unloading gaped. For the moment they forgot that every gallon of fuel and every tin of food they humped over the side might save a life later on.
The three skippers strode quickly up the bridge ladder to where I was. Heidar Bull shoved over the safety catch when he saw me. I had forgotten the Luger and long knife stuck in my duffel-coat belt.
Reidar Bull pointed the wicked-looking weapon at me. " Hanssen! Get those things off him! You, Brunvoll, watch the islander." He came closer to me. " Where are the others?"
I shrugged. " In irons. I'm trying to salvage what is left of this ship. I would have saved the ship herself if you three lilylivered bastards had obeyed me and brought your catchers in to keep the lead open."
Reidar Bull's savage mood seemed to be inflamed by my words. " Listen, Captain! You and this whole crooked bunch are under arrest. See? I'm taking you…"
" I know," I said shortly. " You're taking me and the others to a rendezvous at Bouvet and handing us over to Thorshammer. I heard it over the radio."
Lars Brunvoll could not keep back his anger. " The killer whale I have seen go and tear out a Blue Whale's tongue just for the sport. You are not a killer whale, but by God! it made me wonder what you are when I saw you shoot down the seaplane!"
Reidar Bull waved the Schmeisser in my face when I opened my mouth to tell them about the Spandau-Hotchkiss. Hanssen also swore threateningly. " Here in the Antarctic men die hard," he said. " However desperate you are yourself, you never call in help, if it will endanger their lives. That is the code. You know it, Captain. Your Captain Scott died like that, and the world still remembers. You, however, deliberately took life."