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Ashlock

It wasn’t ideal, but this is the last trip the icebreakers can make before the sea goes solid for winter.  They steam through the groaning water toward d’Urville, and muttering perturbs their Tasmanian crew.

Ashlock climbs down into the hold every few hours to check the trembling RAID and its car battery, lashed to a frame of PVC pipe.  Its lifespan diminishes.  Tach’s taken to whalespotting, and is no help.

The station ruins hove into view just as the sun begins to dip toward the twenty-hour night. Ashlock hoists the rig, and quells fears too old for the Greeks to name.

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