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Authors: Hamish Cantillon

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He slowly finished his toast thinking about the satellite image and whether Florence might be right - just some weather balloon or exposed crevice or something equally unexciting.    Finally he got up and went back to the lab to tidy up a few odds and ends.  If he was going to be accompanying the Marines onto the central plateaux he would be gone a good few days.

 

__________________________________

 

 

Later that evening he was quietly dozing on his bed with a wet cloth over his face when Florence’s voice came over the tannoy announcing there would be a station meeting for all staff in half an hour.  He raised his head gingerly off the pillow.  He still had a headache but the feeling that he was about to die had retreated somewhat.  He drank down the glass of water he’d placed on the bedside table.  Rehydration he told himself was the trick to recovering swiftly from the sort of hangover he’d had this morning.  Feeling a bit livelier he decided to get to the dining area, where all the staff meetings were held.  He knew if he didn’t get there soonish there’d be nowhere to sit.  Even though the base wasn’t fully staffed there were still about 60 people stationed here - and there were only spaces for 50 people sitting in the dining room at any one time.  Normally this was fine as staggered meal times and overnight trips on the ice meant there were very few times when everyone was present at the same time.  This evening however the 60 or so scientists and support staff along with a Royal Marine contingent would mean space would be at a premium. 

 

He entered the dining area to find that most of the rest of the base had realised the same thing and turned up early.  He considered turning round and going back to his bed.  Although he was feeling better he didn’t think he had the stamina to stand while the senior managers gave their various presentations.  “Joe over here”.  Wendy was calling his name from somewhere towards the back of the room. “Joey we’ve saved you a space”.  He couldn’t see her for all the scientists and soldiers standing around without seats but he following the sound of her voice.  The dining room tables had been cleared away and the chairs placed theatre style facing the raised platform on one side of the kitchen hatch.  When he got to where Wendy and Ben were sitting he could see they hadn’t just saved him a seat out of the kindest of their hearts – on the other side of the empty seat was Susie Callaghan.  He’d managed to keep out of her way up until this point.  He sighed.  Well he’d better get this over with. 

 

“Hi Wendy, Hi Ben, Hello Susie, that was kind of you to save me a seat”.  He scowled at Wendy and Ben as he shuffled past them. 

 

Susie gave him a broad smile and patted the empty chair.  “Oh we couldn’t have our favourite geologist standing now could we guys?”  Wendy and Ben shook their heads in mock seriousness. 

 

As he sat down Susie patted his thigh, much to the amusement of Ben and Wendy next to him. “Err Susie I understand I might owe you a bit of an apology for last night”. 

 

Susie flicked her tightly permed hair to one side. “Apology Dr Harper? There’s no need to apologise.  After all you’re a single man and I’m a single lady, it’s just the birds and the bees as far as I’m concerned”.

 

He had to look up to check that she was being serious.  Apparently she was. “I know Susie but in this particular instance I worry that maybe my intake of Michael’s homebrew might have caused me to overstep the mark a bit and I just wanted to apologise for my behaviour…..the last thing I wanted to do was to cause any offence…..or give you the wrong impression and I’m afraid that I may have done this”.  

 

Susie looked at him slightly confused.  He was going to need to come up with something better than this.  “If I’m honest Susie I think if last night has shown me anything it’s that maybe I’m still not really over Jessica”.  Barely concealed spluttering could be heard from beside him, but it appeared to be working with Susie.  “Oh Joey honey I know I know. Now you listen to me, you take as long as you need and when you’re ready you come and take a taste of this yummy Callaghan pie” she finishing the sentence with a coquettish look.  He tried not to look too worried and gave her his best
thanks for understanding look
.  She smiled and rested her hand again on his upper thigh, just a touch too high to be entirely comfortable.  He was saved from any further discussion by Florence opening the proceeding down at the front of the room.  He pretended to shift forwards on his seat to get a better view and managed to get his thigh out from under Susie’s hand.  My God he certainly knew how to get himself into trouble.

 

Florence started by letting everyone know that the resupply ship had docked, which meant a number of planned experiments could now be started and the base would have enough fuel and food to last till the end of the summer season.  She then waved a hand towards a youngish but rugged looking Royal Marine with short blonde hair introducing him as Lieutenant Dominic Taylor. Joe heard Wendy whispering to Ben “Shame he’s not posted here permanently”.  Florence went on to explain that Lieutenant Taylor would be leading his men on a flight to the central plateaux as part of an extended training exercise.  Florence also mentioned that as flights into the centre weren’t that frequent Dr Harper would be taking advantage of this and accompanying the Marines to follow up on his ice depth study.  It all sounded eminently plausible.  Most of the rest of the staff accepted the explanation carte blanche, though Wendy glanced his way and raised her eyebrows slightly.  There were also one or two mumbled comments from the floor about “military on a research facility” but the meeting soon moved on to the normal presentations from each of the section Heads.  At this point he zoned out and started thinking about whether or not he really wanted to go trooping off to the South Pole with a bunch of Marines.

 

Once the meeting had finished he expertly extracted himself from Susie with a promise to have lunch with her on his return and then went to introduce himself to Lieutenant Taylor.

 

“Lieutenant Taylor.  Joe Harper, many thanks for letting me accompany you on your trip” he said mildly sarcastically.

 

Lieutenant Taylor shook Joe’s outstretched hand.  “Captain Harper good to meet you, I’ve only heard good things”. 

 

Joe glanced at Florence with whom Lieutenant Taylor had been talking. “You’ve obviously been talking to the wrong people and its Dr Harper now.  I haven’t been a Captain for almost 10 years”. 

 

Lieutenant Taylor nodded and then glancing around the crowded room, went on to say.  “Listen Dr Harper if you’re not too busy I’d like to go over a few things with you before we set off tomorrow morning – health and safety procedures etc.”  “Professor Chapman has kindly let me take over her office for a few hours – do you have a few minutes?” 

 

Joe glanced up at Florence “Sure would you excuse us Professor Chapman?” 

 

Florence forced a smile “Of course try not to make too much mess though – some of us will be working while you’re trekking in the wilderness ‘Captain’ Harper”.  She looked at him as if to say ‘you kept that quiet, I wonder what else I don’t know about you’. “Oh and Lieutenant Taylor what time did you say the transport plane will be landing?  I need to let Greg Jones our operations manager know when to get the landing strip swept.”

 

Lieutenant Taylor answered.  “We’re expecting it about O eight hundred hours and we’ll simply load up our equipment and be on our way”.  He shook hands with Florence. “Hope to see you in a few days”.

 

Lieutenant Taylor led the way into Florence’s office and shut the door. “So Captain err I mean Dr Harper how much do you know?” 

 

He answered “Well not that much if I’m honest but enough to know that sending a group of marines to the South Pole starting from Halley sounds distinctly unlikely unless there’s a good reason for it”.  Lieutenant Taylor passed him an official looking telegram.  He scanned it quickly his brow becoming increasingly furrowed.  “Exactly what is this Lieutenant Taylor? This ends by saying ‘proceed with caution’ I’m wondering if you’ve got the wrong man here – you do know I left the Army some time ago don’t you?” 

 

Lieutenant Taylor replied.  “Listen Dr Harper if you think my platoon and I are normally the first port of call on this sort of thing you’d be dead wrong.  We’re almost as much in the dark as you are.  All we know is that nobody can get in touch with the central stations and that image you saw of a circular shaped structure in the centre of the continent is the last picture people have been able to get hold of.  The Americans and ourselves have tried to fly a couple of planes up from McMurdo and Rothera but they seem to go off the radar about 500 miles from where that black spot appeared on the satellite image.”  He paused for a moment. “In addition because the Americans aren’t convinced by the answers the Russians have been giving; and as we’re the closest military presence anywhere near the bases we've been asked to fly in to just outside where contact was lost with the other planes and then see if we can trek into the nearest station on foot - which as I understand is Amundsen-Scott?” 

 

His face darkened as Lieutenant Taylor spoke and the headache he thought he’d got rid of seemed to come back with a vengeance.  “Excuse my French Lieutenant Taylor and not to put too fine a point on it but what the fuck is my role in all this?”

 

Lieutenant Taylor looked slightly out of sorts for the first time. “Well unfortunately Dr Harper neither I nor anyone in my platoon has any extreme cold weather training – we need someone who knows what’s going on, knows what to look for in terms of potential hazards and risks.  Also you know the area.  According to Professor Chapman you’ve been conducting an ice depth study of the central region for the last two years......err and Major Sanderson also mentioned you served in the Special Forces?”

 

He sat down.  “Yes I served in the Special Forces but mostly in the bloody Iraqi desert a decade ago.  As for the central plateaux I’ve only been out in person a couple of times.”  Lieutenant Taylor interrupted “two more times than we have”.  Joe gave him a look that shut him up.  “Shit shit and double shit.  What if I say no?” 

 

Lieutenant Taylor sat down at Florence’s desk.  “Then we’ll proceed anyway.  You’ve seen my orders”. 

 

He raised an eyebrow at this. “You mean to say that if I say no you’re going to take your un winter condition trained men and trek halfway across Antarctica to the South Pole?  This is classic Army FUBR.” 

 

Lieutenant Taylor shrugged his shoulders. “That’s about the size of it”. 

 

He slumped back in his chair.  “Well if this isn’t turning into a pretty shitty day I don’t know what is.  I wake up with a hangover Oliver Reed wouldn’t have been ashamed of, spend the day avoiding the station mare and then I’m told to either ‘volunteer’ for a decidedly dangerous, potentially life threatening mission or let a bunch of Royal Marines do what can only be referred to as a ‘Captain Oakes’ ”.  He sighed.

 

Lieutenant Taylor got up and put out his hand.  “Welcome to the team… Captain…” 

 

Despite himself he reached out and shook Lieutenant Taylor’s hand.  “It’s still Doctor Lieutenant.  You’re the one who’s leading this mission.  I’m just along for the ride”.

Chapter 6 – JAVEIRA - June 2015

 

The rain fell unexpectedly. Though the sky had been darkening for the last couple of hours no one had been prepared for its ferocity.  There was a rush to find shelter in the malls and office buildings lining the broad ‘new’ Jeddah streets designed primarily for the automobile.  The onset of heavy rain and the inability of the storm drains, which were often choked with rubbish, to dissipate the large pools forming on the sides of the roads had the effect of causing traffic in the effected lanes to swing out wildly to avoid the deep puddles.  It hadn’t been raining for 5 minutes when she heard the all too familiar sound of an accident in the distance.  She sighed.  She knew this meant further traffic hold ups.  It looked like her choices were to call Salem and wait in a traffic jam for several hours or simply embrace the rain and walk home to the apartment she shared with her cousin Rahmaniah.

 

The apartment had been her cousin’s idea.  Rahmaniah was the family rebel, the daughter of her mother’s younger sister Mayameen, who was herself somewhat of an ‘independent’ spirit.  Her aunt Maya had been forced to marry an older and wealthier relative who had died suddenly, but not before impregnating Maya.  Her aunt had been left a widow and a new mother in her early twenties.  Of course with substantial assets and considerable income from her late husband’s estate she had received plenty of offers to remarry.  But her aunt was no fool, she knew if she did so she’d have had to answer to her new husband.  She’d therefore defied all convention and against the wishes of her family had bought a giant house on the outskirts of Jeddah and brought her daughter up on her own…with the help of a couple of Pilipino maids and her burly and not at all unhandsome Jordanian chauffeur Ahmed.

 

Rahmaniah was the same age as Javeira and knowing that as an unmarried female she’d never be permitted to get an apartment on her own, even with such a progressive mother, she’d persuaded Javeira to go in with her on the idea.  Technically as they were both unmarried they shouldn’t have been able to lease an apartment at all but with some special ‘facilitation’ payments provided by Maya they’d had no problems. 

 

Of course her father had almost had an apoplexy when she’d told him and had once again expressly forbidden her to do this but his ability to prevent her doing anything had diminished substantially from the day she’d told him she wasn’t going to marry Hassan Mahfouz.  She hadn’t even said anything just turned away, walked to her room, packed a bag and moved out the same day.  Her mother had spent the time it took her to pack a bag crying her eyes out and begging her not to fearing it ‘would ruin her reputation’. 

 

The move had been 9 months ago and though her father still hadn’t fully accepted the situation they had managed to retain a professional relationship.  He knew he’d be a fool to dispense with her business acumen and Abdullah her twin brother had told her that after she’d left the house her mother had basically shouted her father down and told him in no uncertain terms, and using language hitherto unheard in the house, that she blamed him for Javeira moving out – the phrase ‘if you hadn’t tried to force her to marry that ugly son of a whore Mahfouz boy she’d still be at home and we wouldn’t be about to be the talk of the town’ being the deciding factor.  Abdullah said he’d never seen his father so chastened and though their father had stormed off shortly afterwards being shouted at by his previously passive wife Abdullah revealed to Javeira that even Saudi men couldn’t win every battle.

 

Of course a family compromise had eventually been worked out and though there was a fragility to the parent/daughter relationship they were at least back on speaking terms.  The agreement had been that no more would be said about the ‘apartment’ or ‘marriage’ if Javeira agreed to ‘consider’ any suitors that her parents brought to her attention without prejudice; and if Salem, her second cousin on her father’s side, was allowed to move into the vacant apartment next door to hers and Rahmaniah’s.  She hadn’t wanted to agree to this but knew she had to give ground somewhere for the sake of family unity.  Salem had previously acted as her driver and as he was a largely inoffensive character she’d accepted this as the price for her freedom.

 

Unfortunately or fortunately depending on who’s point of view you were looking at it from Rahmaniah had almost immediately got Salem drunk on illegal liquor and then had their Pilipino maid Lila seduce him.  When he was awoken the next morning by Rahmaniah, lying naked next to Lila the maid, Rahmaniah had told him in no uncertain terms that if he wanted to keep his ‘shameful secret’ safe from Javeira’s father he would answer to her and no one else.  Salem had literally begged Rahmaniah on his hands and knees not to say anything to her father, he was as aware as Javeira was of the apocryphal story of Musa and Layla. 

 

This meant that both she and Rahmaniah had pretty much free reign to do as they pleased with the added benefit of having a male Saudi to cover for them when they needed it.  After the initial shock of being blackmailed by Rahmaniah Salem also found his life had actually improved substantially.  Not only was he now living in a plush apartment in the most fashionable part of Jeddah but Javeira wasn’t a particularly tough task master, simply requiring him to drive her to and from the office each day and that was about it.  In addition she’d provided him with the funds to invest in a small shop in the old town.  It was probably this additional source of income above and beyond the small stipend her father paid him that bound him to her more than anything.  Up until that point he’d been entirely dependent on the generosity of the Al Bajubair family.  Now she’d given him an independent source of income he was to all extents and purposes a free man.  Of course it didn’t hurt that Rahmaniah made a point of sending Lila round to his apartment at least once a week to ‘collect his washing’, a task that seemed to take somewhat longer than it might normally… 

 

As was wont in their somewhat hypocritical society they had found a balance which suited all of them yet also met the intangible social norms they as privileged Saudis were expected to conform to.   More than anything she found that for perhaps the first time in her life she was truly content.  It seemed as if her prayer to Hawwa had come true and for this she was extremely grateful.  The only downside was the agreement to consider her parents ‘suitors’ but thankfully, and perhaps not unsurprisingly, given she’d moved out of the family home, these had been few and far between.  Nevertheless there had still been enough to keep her on her toes thinking up reasons why she couldn’t marry the various bachelors invited to the family gatherings she had to attend.  Ultimately she wanted to marry for love and whatever love was she didn’t feel she’d found it in any of the men her parents had put in front of her so far.

 

Of course having their own flat and relative autonomy and freedom had made her, Rahmaniah and Salem extremely popular amongst their friends and associates.  This was largely because of the gatherings they were now able to hold at their apartments.  Her father had insisted that an adjoining inner door be constructed between Salem and the girls flat.  Unbeknownst to him this meant that Salem could now quite appropriately invite his male friends round at the same time that she and Rahmaniah invited their female friends round.  Perhaps less appropriately at an appointed time the inner door was then opened and young Saudi men and women were able to mingle freely without being under the watchful eyes of their respective parents.  These more informal gatherings had the added benefit of being able to be conducted without the constraints of the much hated abayas that Saudi women had to wear when outside their own homes.  She and Rahmaniah had instigated a strict policy that anyone visiting them (whether known or unknown to them) left their abaya at the door – no exceptions.  She and Rahmaniah’s social standing may have decreased in the eyes of her parents’ generation but their standing had rocketed stratospherically amongst their own generation.  As well as standing up for the rights of their friends to make their own life choices their gatherings were soon the most sought after invitations in town.  She had had to instruct the post room and security in their building to stop sending up the gifts of chocolates, flowers, jewels, dresses etc. that she was now receiving on an almost daily basis.  Inevitably these would be accompanied by a card from someone she barely knew or hadn’t spoken to since school or University with a phrase like ‘please keep me in mind for your next social function’.

 

Given the unexpected success of these soirees and the significant numbers of ‘marital engagements’ that had followed she had been too much of a businesswoman to pass up the opportunity to not turn these gatherings into revenue generating opportunities.  Utilising some of the family investment funds she controlled she’d set up a new ‘Event Management’ company and started similar social party arrangements in Riyadh, Madinah, Sultanah, Dammam, Taif and Tabuk.  Originally she’d thought it would be difficult to find people like her and Rahmaniah but in the end it had been relatively straightforward.  The demand was so great for the service they were offering and the social networks of their friends wide enough that they were able to find suitable Saudi male and female hostesses without too much difficulty. 

 

On the advice of Salem she had been careful to make sure that both the host and hostess’ they employed were from families from a relatively impoverished background.  The chance to interact with well to do Saudis, increase their own social standing and be paid for the privilege was something the hosts truly valued.  They were also more likely to do everything they could to avoid their activities coming to the attention of the local authorities.  In fact in the first month of their new business venture this worst case scenario had occurred.  Their initial Riyadh location, in a conservative area of town, a nosy neighbour and an indiscrete host (who had allowed music to be played too loud) resulted in the religious police being called.  The police hadn’t acted immediately but bided their time and then undertaken a raid during the next gathering.  All the participants had been fined and severely reprimanded.  Luckily Salem had been used as the front man to lease the apartments and he was the one contacted by the religious police after the raid.  In the end the police had ended up apologising to Salem for the trouble caused.  He’d done a brilliant job in acting utterly outraged that “these apartments, which I rented out in good faith to Saudi Arabians from good families, have been used in this manner.  I will be writing to their parents and asking for recompense for the slander this has brought on my name.  Allah be praised that my poor father is no longer alive to hear of this”.  

 

She’d considered ending the business venture right there and then but Salem and Rahmaniah had insisted she continue.  The basic cost model was simple, leases on the apartment, modest salaries for the hosts and hostesses and some food and soft drinks.  Revenues came from a ‘recommended donations’ system.  She’d set the price at a relatively high 600 Riyals to try to deter demand but in reality she could have charged pretty much what she wanted.  Those that failed to make the ‘voluntary’ donation weren’t invited back to any future gatherings.  The business was booming and the money was really beginning to roll in, to the extent that one day when she was at the office with her father he’d asked her about the new ‘Eventing’ business which was posting a 20% return on capital.  She’d almost choked on her pomegranate sherbet when he went on to suggest that the new company might consider staging the annual shareholder board meeting.

 

“Oh baba the company’s only just started and though it’s doing well its more about small business networking and seminars than staging events for large companies like our own – maybe next year if it’s still doing as well?”

 

“Ok bint il-beled you know best but no need for you to hide your talents under a bushel, this has all the hallmarks of another successful enterprise. Let me know if you need anything”.

 

Little did he know how successful.  Even though she was scrupulously posting a 20% profit to the Bajubair holdings accounts (as the company’s cut for putting up the initial investment) she was also posting a further 50% of the cash based business to her own personal account.  Salem and Rahmaniah were getting 10% each of this but basically she was well on her way to becoming a US dollar millionaire in her own right and she wasn’t even 25 yet.  In fact this had meant taking a leaf out of her father’s book and start converting some of her funds into gold as she knew the authorities started looking more closely at personal bank accounts with more than 5 million riyals in them.

 

Of course while she was setting up the new business and acting as the deputy head of her family’s conglomerate she didn’t exactly have an awfully lot of free time.  The gatherings that Rahmaniah and Salem organised in their apartments were the only time for her to relax and do some of her own speed dating Saudi style.  As a result of this she’d already met most of the bachelors that were subsequently introduced to her at family parties.  Of course in this more formal setting both she and the bachelor guest made a show of introducing themselves and exchanging a few polite comments, but in fact already knew more about each other than the watching relatives suspected.

 

The gathering at her apartment this evening was actually more of a business affair, hosts and hostesses from around the country who had been invited to Jeddah to swap stories and exchange best practice with regards to the events themselves.  Salem would be giving a presentation about the best methods for keeping under the radar of the religious authorities and Javeira was looking forward to meeting her employees, most of whom she hadn’t yet met face to face. 

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