Colder Than Ice (5 page)

“Oh,
really? So you being captured and held hostage by guerillas in Borneo and being
one of only nine to survive doesn’t constitute a threat to your life? It was
six months before you could cope with a full day of work.”

Michela’s
memories of barely surviving the thirty days of terror and privation were as
clear as if it had happened only yesterday and she gently took Natalie in her
arms. “Darling, this trip may never get off the ground. The complete
funding is yet to be guaranteed and if that doesn’t happen, then obviously
they, and possibly I, won’t be going anywhere.”

“Yes.
But if they, and I guess now
you,
do raise the funds, you’ll leave me
again, won’t you?”

Michela
stroked Natalie’s long black hair. “Yes. But this will be the last time, I
promise.”

Natalie
propelled Michela out of her arms. “Right. And that’s what you said last
time.” She stormed out of the office, nearly dislodging the door from its
hinges as she slammed it behind her.

MICHELA
REVIEWED HER notes one last time before her meeting with the Institute’s
Director. She’d thrown herself into preparation for this meeting and yet the
troubles she was experiencing at home still invaded her thoughts. She was so
preoccupied with last night’s attempt at reconciliation with Natalie that she
almost missed the polite tones of Dr. Reilly’s secretary.

“Excuse
me, Dr. DeGrasse, Dr. Reilly will see you now.”

Michela
stood and gathered her notes. “Thank you.” She gently knocked before
entering the office.

“Good
morning, Dr. DeGrasse.” Dr. Reilly stood up from his desk and picked up
his coffee cup. “Please have a seat.”

“Thank
you,” she said as she sat in a plush leather seat at the coffee table.

Dr.
Reilly took a seat across from her. “What brings you to the more mundane
administrative offices of the Institute?”

“I
was wondering whether you’re aware of the recent discovery in the
Antarctic,” Michela said.

“Which
one are you referring to? They regularly make so many discoveries down
there.”

Michela
sat forward, barely masking her enthusiasm.

“Around
two weeks ago a discovery was made that suggested the remains of the Finlayson
expedition had been found. The glaciologist who made the discovery confirmed
there were no other historical sites in that area.”

Dr.
Reilly sat back. He stroked his upper lip in thought and then nodded. “He
was an American explorer of the late nineteenth century. A bit of an eccentric,
I believe. If I remember correctly, it’s thought he didn’t make it to
Antarctica.”

“That’s
correct. The Flinders Museum of Australasian Exploration is currently trying to
raise the money needed to fund a dig. To date they’ve managed to raise
two-fifths of the entire amount.”

Dr.
Reilly smiled and picked up his cup. “Given we’re talking about the
proposed expedition, I’m assuming this has some remote link to your research.”

“Yes,
it does. Apparently, the initial group that will go won’t be very large.
They’ll be very isolated for the greater part of the dig. To achieve their
mission they’ll have to be self-sufficient in an environment and conditions
unfamiliar to them. This expedition would make a perfect practical medium to
confirm some of my research theories.”

“That
might be so, but surely these people aren’t going to be on the continent for
over a year-and-a-half, which is the suggested duration of a mission to Mars.
And besides, these people aren’t astronauts.”

“I
know that. But like the crew being proposed for the Mars mission, they’re a
small team of professionals, thrown together in less than desirable
circumstances. As individuals they’ll no doubt have differing priorities
regarding the excavation and its goals. Regardless of these priorities, they’re
going to have to work together. I believe this is an opportunity we shouldn’t
miss.

“From
discussions I’ve had with Dr. Knight, the Australian team is going to be at the
actual site for around eight weeks. This should be more than ample time to
conduct my research.” Michela placed a brief in front of Dr. Reilly.
“This is an executive summary of what my study would cover. I’ve also
attached a more detailed overview of the project and its outcomes.”

Dr.
Reilly quickly scanned the executive summary. “Supposing I agree to your
submission. What are the costs involved?”

Michela
nervously swallowed. “The Flinders Museum website has established a page
that specifically relates to the expedition. The site is run by the head of the
Flinders Museum team, Dr. Allison Shaunessy, and she’s set the funding for the
expedition at half a million dollars.”

Dr.
Reilly’s eyes widened. “Half a million dollars. There’s no conceivable way
the Institute could afford such a large amount.”

“I
understand, but the Institute wouldn’t be asked to provide all the funds.
According to the Flinders Museum website, two-fifths of the money has already
been donated. I was wondering whether the Institute could afford to fund the
remainder.”

Dr.
Reilly stroked his chin in thought. “Even three hundred thousand dollars
is a large sum, especially after we lost the first Mars spaceship to that
damned terrorist plot. If this second attempt hadn’t been a global undertaking,
it’s unlikely any one country could have covered the costs.”

Michela
nodded. “Financial circumstances aren’t the best at the moment. But is
there any possibility of funding?”

“I
don’t know. But you’ve picked your time well. Our weekly global status report
is this afternoon. I’ll put your proposal on the agenda but I can’t make any
promises.” Dr. Reilly went to the door and opened it. “I’ll advise
you of the outcome in the next couple of days.”

“Thank
you very much.”

Michela
went back to her office. She dropped her notes on her desk and pressed the
button on her intercom. “Frederick, can you come in here for a
moment?”

Michela
had barely settled herself at her desk before Frederick strolled into her
office. “How did it go?”

“It’s
as I suspected. It’s a great opportunity that might never see the light of day
because of lack of funding,” she said. “I’m beat. There’s nothing
here that I can’t do from home, so if you need me that’s where I’ll be for the
next few days.”

Sure,
boss. You do look as if you’ve been burning the candle at both ends. Give me a
call if you need anything.” Michela smiled as Frederick left the room. If
anything, he understood the work she did, unlike Natalie.

As
she packed her briefcase and grabbed her digital tablet, Michela hoped the
break from work would provide an opportunity for her and Natalie to reconcile
their differences. The silence between them had gone on longer than ever before
and this made her unsteady.

Her
hopes of reconciliation were dashed when she arrived home to find a coldly
succinct note from Natalie, stating she’d be at a fashion shoot for the next
few days. She picked up Natalie’s cell phone from the counter and shook her
head. It was obvious that Natalie was still in no mood to talk. Michela put the
note and phone back on the counter, took a hot shower, and got some
well-deserved sleep.

THE
FOLLOWING MORNING Michela’s slumber was interrupted by the warbling tune from
her cell phone. Barely awake, she answered, “Natalie, is that you? What
time is it?”

“Dr.
DeGrasse. I’m sorry to bother you. It’s Dr. Reilly’s secretary. He wishes to
speak with you. Could you hold please?”

Michela
vigorously rubbed her face.

“Michela,
glad to hear you’re taking a bit of a break,” Dr. Reilly said. “I
thought I’d contact you regarding your proposal. I’ve spoken with the other
Committee members and they agree with it.”

Michela’s
hopes sank at Dr. Reilly’s pause. “Let me guess. They agree to the
proposal in principle but funding is impossible.”

Dr.
Reilly chuckled softly. “Such pessimism at your age. The news isn’t all
good, but the Committee has agreed to fund a fifth of the expedition costs. You
can speak with my PA regarding the e-funds transfer. You’ll also need to submit
the findings of your research to the Committee when you return—that is if the
remaining monies are found.”

One-fifth
still left the expedition two hundred thousand short. Still, it’s better than
nothing.
“Thank you, Dr. Reilly.
I’ll keep you informed.”

Michela
dragged herself out of bed and walked to her office. She sat down, picked up
her digital tablet, and dictated an e-mail to Sarah Knight, who she’d been in
touch with over the last few days.

Hello
Sarah,

I’ve
some good news and some bad news. I’ve spoken with my Director, and the
committee’s agreed to provide $100,000.

Last
time I checked the Flinders Museum website, they’d raised $200,000. Do you know
whether they’ve had any further success? I’m at my wits’ end here. If the
remainder can’t be funded out of Australia, I don’t know whether the dig will
ever get off the ground.

Keep
me posted and I’ll do the same.

Regards,

Michela

Michela
sent the e-mail and then took a hot shower. As the water cascaded down her
broad shoulders and over her body and sculpted legs, her thoughts turned to
Natalie. Whenever Natalie was on a shoot she’d phone at least once a day,
whether she had her own cell or not. The lack of communication with Natalie was
unsettling.

After
her shower she checked the phone and was disappointed by the absence of
messages. Sighing, she retreated back into her office. Ignoring a number of
work e-mails that needed her attention, she eagerly opened a new message in her
inbox.

Hi
Michela,

I
bet you’re surprised at the quick reply. I’m currently on my way home to
Australia from Antarctica and I was busy sending some e-mails when your message
came through.

That’s
great news. I know your Institute’s donation isn’t going to get the project off
the ground, but at least the group’s more than half way to its goal. Have you
spoken with the team leader in Australia yet? Her name is Dr. Allison Shaunessy
and apparently what she doesn’t know about Finlayson isn’t worth knowing. In
case you haven’t, I’ll attach her work e-mail at the end of this message.

Re
the remaining funds, have you approached the Finlayson family? I was speaking
with my ex-girlfriend a few days ago and she’s a computer geek. She mentioned
something about the family being a giant in Information Technology in the
States. Maybe they’d be interested in providing a financial donation.

Anyway,
I’ve got to go. There’s a big party tonight for the homeward-bound
expeditionary and I don’t want to miss out on free beer. Keep me posted.

Regards,

Sarah

Michela
smiled at Sarah’s casual reference to her ex-girlfriend. “Hmm, obviously
family.” Getting back to Sarah’s suggestion, Michela opened a browser.

“Let’s
see what the business links bring up.” Michela entered the business
listings area and uttered
Finlayson.

“I’ll
be. Go to Finlayson Enterprises, annual report.” Michela scanned the
screen. “Sarah, you were right. A top five hundred company no less, and
look at those profits. So who is it that I should be talking to about a
donation?” Her voice command took her to the Board of Directors and
Michela laughed at what she found. “A company this size headed by a woman.
I’ll bet there aren’t too many of those.” She touched the photograph that
defaulted to Charlotte Elizabeth Finlayson’s abridged biography.

Michela
shook her head. “The best schools, married and divorced, chair of a number
of charities and still running a worldwide company. I wonder how she manages.
A home in the country as well. Now that would be nice.”

Charlotte
Finlayson’s contact details were at the bottom of the page. Taking a gamble,
Michela picked up her cell and punched in the long distance number.

“Good
morning. Finlayson Enterprises. May I help you?”

Michela
was so surprised at actually reaching a person that she was momentarily
speechless. “I’m sorry. Good morning, ma’am. My name is Dr. Michela
DeGrasse.”

“Good
morning, Dr. DeGrasse. I’m Virginia Blaine, Ms. Finlayson’s personal
aide.”

“Please
excuse my surprise, but I’m amazed at actually getting through to her
offices,” Michela said.

Ms.
Blaine softly laughed. “Ms. Finlayson believes she should be contactable
to anyone who has a sound reason to speak with her. I filter any undesirable
calls she might receive. You’re not one of those, are you, Doctor?”

“I
assure you I’m not. I understand how busy she must be but I was wondering if it
would be possible to actually speak with Ms. Finlayson about a small
matter.”

“May
I ask what you wish to speak to her about?”

“Yes.
I was hoping to talk with her about her ancestor, Eric Robert Finlayson, and
the recent discovery down in Antarctica.”