Hey, guys! I wrote this story because I love Antarctica and wanted to write a story that takes place there. This story is about a guy named Nat who goes to the continent to write a book, but runs into some hardships, like people not liking that he was allowed inland when he's not a scientist, as well as falling hard for his new roommate the instant he meets the guy. Just to name a couple. Join him on his adventures on this icy continent.
This story is rated T for mature content, like some language and sexual themes.
So... I get that people travel on cruises and such to that huge hunk of ice on the bottom of the planet, but I'm pretty sure you have to get some type of clearance to go into the continent to work at one of their bases since they don't want people destroying the environment and things like that. This story was sparked by a show called "Continent 7" on Disney plus. It's pretty interesting. If you like Antarctica, then you should check that show out. Anyway...
Enjoy the story!
ICE COLD
Chapter 1
It's a white, barren wilderness, like another planet covered in snow and ice, another planet that never sees the darkness during the summer months and never sees sunlight during the winter months. Thank goodness I'll be here during a month of the six summer months. I think I would go crazy being in the dark for half-a-year. It won't do good things to my depression also.
That's why I chose to be my scientist father's tag-a-long while he studies microorganisms in the glaciers. I'm no scientist, I'm a writer like my mom. Heck, I got a C in my biology class sophomore year five years ago, and nothing above a B in every science class after that. I'm only here for a month while I write my novel that takes place in Antarctica. I thought it would be wise to watch actual scientists and get scientific facts right in my book about a couple of scientists doing research here, and falling in love, too, of course. So hopefully, the scientists that my dad works with, I hope I don't get in their way while I do some research of my own.
Yeah, I know, I don't know much about all the scientific stuff, so why write a book that has the main characters as scientists? The whole 'write what you know' rule? Well, one, I want to learn; and two, writing is my passion. Being an English major with a creative writing emphasis is evidence of that, along with the 200 short stories I have written in the past ten years.
"We're landing, Nat," I heard my dad, Dr. Eric Conwell, say in the seat next to me. I shut my silver Lenovo laptop, put it in my backpack, and looked out the window at the terrain that I saw a couple minutes ago.
"Whoa," I exasperated at the endless white. "It's more beautiful in person."
"It is. It's more beautiful every time I come here."
My dad has studied and done research in Antarctica six times in the past twenty years—as long as I've been alive. And that's how I developed a fascination and a love for the white continent. I was a lucky son-of-a-gun to even be allowed into the mainland, given that only your hard core mountaineer, scientists, and people who run the bases are allowed there, and given the COVID-19 pandemic right now in the rest of the world, it's even more difficult to get clearance. Usually the people who travel here for fun stay on the outer reaches of the continent. I was allowed inland mainly because my dad can be pretty persuasive. You see, we're from Washington state where the cases for the virus are high, and getting me out of the state, and the country with the most cases worldwide—well, third place—protects me. That was the argument. And it worked. And... dad convincing them that my book is going to be the next Harry Potter or Twilight. Yeah, right. I'm not that great of a writer. But, hey—at least I'm here.
Anyway, according to what I was told, the moment my dad, me, and the other scientists on the plane step foot onto Antarctica ground, we go to be tested and then be put into quarantine, depending on the results. Honestly, the panic of the virus is the pandemic, not the virus itself. It's all crap in my opinion, but I get wanting to be safe.
The plane jolted, signifying that we landed. I saw people ready to meet us at the USA base in the north-western part of the continent, a base called The Little America V Station. That jolt of the plane produced a jolt to my own heart, and my nerves got the better of me—my heart started to race unhealthily fast, and my hands started shaking. My friends at home thought me crazy for wanting to go to the coldest place on the planet, and now, looking out my small airplane window at the faces of the people out there, even at a distance, made me question my decision. What will these people think of a twenty-year-old kid, who is not here to study glaciers and wildlife, but to write a book, invading their space?
"Well, here we go," dad said, and the other people around us were getting up. I stood up as well, and soon was walking up the aisle of the plane up to the door with my dad and the others with us, most likely scientists. When I was up at the door, a cold gust of wind hit me. I stepped down the stairs of the plane after my dad, shivering, even though I had a massive navy-blue parka coat on, and thick winter hat of the same color to match—I always have to match accessories.
I looked off into the wilderness as I stepped down the stairs, and there was white as far as the eye could see, and snow was everywhere on the ground. The sun was shining on it all, making it illuminate. It was the most amazing sight I've ever seen.
My heart hammered and my hands were gong numb in my thick wool gloves. My attention was averted suddenly by a large booming voice that made me jump as soon as I stepped on Antarctica ground. Or ice.
"Dr. Eric Conwell, welcome back!"
A man in a large black jacket embraced my dad. Dad said, "Dr. Samson, it's great to see you again. And, social distancing."
Dr. Samson waved a hand as soon as he was out of the embrace with my dad. "Heck, I'm not worried about all that nonsense." He looked over to me. "Ah, and this must be your boy that you told me about."
Dad patted my shoulder. "Yep, this is my son Nathan. He was given clearance to come and write a novel that is about two scientists working in Antarctica."
Dr. Samson's brows rose up to his gray hat that had graying brown hair poking out underneath it. "Is that right? Escaping the pandemic, huh?"
I shook that man's hand. "In a way. It's nice to meet you. You can call me Nat."
"Nat, my bad," dad said. "Picky kid."
"Dr. Samson, you're needed in the lab," said a young man in a black coat who came up to us. I blinked and my eyes widened at seeing halting blue eyes, brown hair poking out of a red winter hat, and full pink lips and rosy cheeks from the cold. I had the urge to fix my own brown hair, even though my winter hat was covering it.
"Right, I'll be right there," Dr. Samson said to the young man. "I'm just saying hi to an old friend."
The young man looked to my dad and his eyes widened. "Oh, Dr. Conwell! I heard you were coming. It's great to meet you."
I knew my dad was popular among the scientists, according to what he has told me. I kept my eyes on the good-looking guy. "You as well," dad said and shook his hand. "Dr..."
"Dr. Justin Lambert."
I started. Doctor? This young guy's a doctor? He looks no older than twenty-five!
"A pleasure," dad said, and then clapped my shoulder again. "And this is my son Nathan, but he likes to be called Nat."
"Looks like there will be another young face around, not just me," Dr. Lambert said, and held out his gloved hand. "Nice to meet you, Nat."
"You as well," I said and took his hand and my heart jumped at the strong grip. I locked gazes with the good-looking, young scientist and momentarily forgot how to breathe. It really is a thing.
"So, are you here to do research as well, or...?" Dr. Lambert started. I knew what he was meaning.
"I'm a writer. I'm here to write a book."
Dr. Lambert's brows rose to his red hat. "Really? Here to write the next Great American Novel, huh?"
"A novel that takes place in Antarctica," dad added.
Dr. Lambert smiled symmetrically and I couldn't take my gaze off of that mouth of his. "Nice, and impressive."
I wondered if Dr. Lambert thought is strange that I'm here and didn't say it out loud. Why am I so concerned about what he thinks when I literally just met the guy?
"Well, we're all here to work," the young doctor said to me. "You're just doing a different type of work."
My hazel eyes widened. I've never thought about that before when I was planning this trip out with my dad. If his good looks and kind character so far weren't enough for me to fall in love with Dr. Lambert at first sight, then what he just said definitely is.
"Okay, we have to get you all tested," said a man who came up to us in a gray coat. I noticed the other scientists around us.
"Right, let's go," dad said and we said our goodbyes to Dr. Samson and Lambert. I looked back at Dr. Lambert and saw him talking with Dr. Samson. Dr. Lambert turned his head to me and I quickly looked away. Well, I questioned coming here before, but after meeting Dr. Lambert, I wondered why I even questioned it.
We entered a portable building, that all the base consisted of essentially, and took turns getting pricked in the medical wing. After I got that thing stuck up my nose, nearly touching my brain it think, I was sent to a room that had a hospital bed, and a counter and sink, like a room in a doctor's office—a room made to quarantine people. The other scientists will be in one as well, including my dad. I dropped my backpack on the bed and rolled my suitcase in against it.
"I have to stay in here until my test is done, and that could take a few days." I sat down on the bed. "At least I'll be rooming with another scientist after this is over."
I knew I wouldn't be rooming with my dad. Is it a vain hope that I will be rooming with Dr. Lambert? Yes, probably. The odds are slim.
After letting out a large sigh, I stared at my black backpack and then my suitcase. Well, since I won't be leaving this room for a while, I might as well get started on my 'great American novel' as Dr. Lambert put it. I pulled my laptop out and got to work.