Out of the Ice Read Online Free Page B

scientists don’t want a bar of it. But Chile and Argentina are really pushing.’
    I smiled wryly at the thought of my Spanish compatriots who hated the British, who also laid claim to some of the very same parts of Antarctica as the Brits, including South Safety Island.
    ‘The Chinese are thinking of building a base on the island but there’s a lot of quiet diplomacy against that,’ said Georgia. ‘Some think if Fredelighavn’s opened, the Chinese will choose somewhere else. It’s all just more jockeying for position before the Protocol expires.’
    The Antarctic Treaty was drawn up in 1959 during the Cold War and came into force in 1961, reserving everything south of latitude 60°S as a place for science, with no military activity allowed; all sovereign claims were frozen. In 1991 the Madrid Protocol went further and banned all mining, but this was coming up for renegotiation in 2041. Although countries could stake no new claims, squatting on land with base stations was a game they played. There were likely vast oilfields and other riches to exploit beneath the ice. Countries were getting prepared.
    Personally, I would have excluded tourism in the Treaty too – but they probably hadn’t even thought about it in 1959.
    ‘I might be biased,’ I said.
    ‘Nonsense. You’re too good a scientist.’
    ‘I could look at the evidence, I suppose.’ Fredelighavn was the stuff of legend. South Georgia Island had six disused whaling stations, but Fredelighavn was the only one on South Safety. All the stations had expanded over their years of operation into small industrial settlements, but Fredelighavn was rumoured to have the most remarkable architecture, which was now overrun by the most extraordinary range and abundance of wildlife. I felt a magnetic pull to the promise of a natural wonderland.
    And Alliance itself was an unusual base. The name, like those of most British bases, came from a nearby geographical location, Alliance Point, at the southern end of Placid Bay. But it had turned into another alliance: the British worked closely there with Americans and Australians. There was speculation that scientists studied viruses at Alliance. I’d once read a fleeting reference in one of my father’s articles that led me to the same conclusion; it was nothing specific, but I’d always been curious. It was another incentive to take up the offer.
    ‘There was a full background check on you,’ said Georgia. ‘You know no one’s allowed there lightly, and this is a very important study. You were deemed politically neutral. Only people like me are aware how much you hate tourism. Your penguin and whale studies are revered.’
    I tried not to blush, pleased they’d seemingly ignored my trouble with the professors in Melbourne. I knew those men would have done everything they could to hurt my chances.
    ‘What about the Antarctic Heritage Trust?’
    ‘You’ll be talking to them, of course. If anything comes to fruition, they’d be the ones implementing. But the Council wanted someone at arm’s length. They also want you to go to Grytviken Museum to check it out.’
    I drew in my breath.
    ‘What?’ she said.
    ‘I’ve been to Grytviken. Got married in the church.’
    Georgia’s eyes opened wide. She didn’t know everything about me.
    ‘I’m sure it’s changed – I haven’t been for over a decade,’ I said.
    ‘Cruise ships stop there. It’s a favourite place.’
    ‘I know.’ It wasn’t the first location I’d want to go to. I blocked the memories as quickly as they came: the ghastly flensing platform where the whales were cut up, the sheds full of the whale-processing machinery. And where I’d been so drawn to Cameron Stewart that I’d vowed to spend the rest of my life with him.
    ‘And Nantucket,’ Georgia continued.
    ‘I’ve never been there,’ I said, pulling myself back to the present. Nantucket. An island north of New York, across the Atlantic Ocean from Norway; another home of whalers