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Under Arctic Ice
Winter, H.G.
Published:
1933
Type(s):
Short Fiction, Science Fiction
Source:
http://www.gutenberg.org/etext/29475
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Copyright:
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check the copyright status in your country.
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Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from Astounding Stories January 1933. Ex-
tensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on
this publication was renewed.
The Table of Contents is not part of the original magazine.
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Chapter
1
An Empty Room
The house where the long trail started was one of gray walls, gray rooms
and gray corridors, with carpets that muffled the feet which at intervals
passed along them. It was a house of silence, brooding within the high
fence that shut it and the grounds from a landscape torpid under the hot
sun of summer, and across which occasionally drifted the lonely, mourn-
ful whistle of a train on a nearby railroad. Inside the house there was al-
ways a hush, a heavy quiet—restful to the brain.
But now a voice was raised, young, angry, impatient, in one of the
gray-walled rooms.
"Yes, I rang for you. I want my bags packed. I'm leaving this minute!"
The face of the man who had entered showed surprise.
"Leaving, Mr. Torrance? Why?"
"Read this!"
As if, knowing and therefore dreading what he would see, the attend-
ant took the newspaper held outstretched to him and followed the point-
ing finger to a featured column. He scanned it:
Deadline Passed for Missing Submarine
Point Barrow, Aug. 17 (AP): Planes sent out to search for the
missing polar submarine
Peary
have returned without clue to the
mystery of is disappearance. The close search that has been con-
ducted through the last two weeks, involving great risks to the pi-
lots, has been fruitless, and authorities now hold out small hope
for Captain Sallorsen, his crew and the several scientists who ac-
companied the daring expedition.
If the
Peary
, as is generally thought, is trapped beneath the ice
floes or embedded in the deep silt of the polar sea-floor, her mar-
gin of safety has passed the deadline, it was pointed out to-day
by her designers. Through special rectifiers aboard, her store of
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air can be kept capable of sustaining life for a theoretical period of
thirty-one days. And exactly thirty-one days have now elapsed
since last the
Peary's
radio was heard from a position 72° 47' N,
162° 22' W, some twelve hundred miles from the North Pole
itself.
In official circles, hope was practically abandoned for the missing
submarine, though attempts will continue to be made to locate
her… .
"I'm sorry, Mr. Torrance," said the attendant nervously. "This paper
should—"
"Should never have reached me, eh? Through some slip of the people
who censor my reading matter here, I read what I wasn't supposed
to—that's what you mean?"
"It was thought better, Mr. Torrance, by the doctors, and—"
"Good God! Thought better! Through their sagacity, these doctors
have probably condemned the men on this submarine to death! I haven't
heard a word about the expedition; didn't even know the
Peary
was up
there, much less missing!"
"Well, Mr. Torrance," the attendant stammered, more and more un-
settled, "the doctors thought that—that any news about it would—well,
upset you."
The young man laughed bitterly;
"Bring on my old 'trouble,' I suppose. The doctors have been consider-
ate, but I won't concern them any more. I'm through. I'm leaving for the
north—right now. There's a bare chance I might still be in time."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Torrance, but you can't."
"Can't?"
The attendant had retreated to the door. His eyes were nervous, his
face pale.
"It's orders, Mr. Torrance. You've been under observation treatment,
and the doctors left strict orders that you must stay."
The young man throbbed with dangerous anger. His hands clenched
and unclenched. He burst out, in a last attempt at reason:
"But don't you see, I've
got
to get to the
Peary
! It's the last hope for
those men! The position she was last heard from is right where I—"
"You can't leave, Mr. Torrance! I'm sorry, but I'll have to call a guard!"
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