Icejacked

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The alarm startled me awake at six thirty. I knew that, if I turned over for five extra minutes, I would not wake up again until the flight had flown off without us. I rolled out of bed and headed for the shower. The hot spray conjured me back to semi-normality.

Even in my somnolent state, I was quite organised this morning. I was sitting at the table with my requisite bowl of muesli and halfway down my second cup of coffee when Leddicus breezed in.

He sat down and gave me a broad grin. “Rain machine very good!”

“It’s a shower,” I said with a half-smile.

The TV news was prattling away in German in the background. I changed it to an English language station so Leddicus could be included. As it came into focus, there was Leddicus smiling back at us. He jumped up and ran to look closely at the screen. He poked at it. He still hadn’t got to grips with modern technology, and he was fascinated.

“Yesterday’s press conference,” I said.

He ignored me and continued to watch intently. The news moved onto the next item, but he was glued to the screen, still enraptured.

“Come on. Shake a leg. We have to make a move.” I hit the off button, and he looked quite crestfallen.

“More me?”

“Maybe later.”

The news coverage surprised me. Although Leddicus has been around for months now, the newscasters made it sound as if he had appeared yesterday. The news could sometimes seem timeless. I guess that’s what sells. Old news is no news.

We tidied up the flat and finished packing. On the dot of ten o’clock, the entry phone buzzed.

“Morning! It’s Julie!” the speaker crackled.

I punched the intercom button. “Come on up. Floor four. Flat twenty-nine.” I injected warmth into my tone, but felt reluctant as I buzzed her in. What choice did I have? It would be downright rude to keep her waiting in the lobby. She was, after all, saving us from lugging our cases to the Bahnhof and the cost of the fares, although I had a niggling suspicion that it would end up costing me much, much more.

She strolled through the door and looked cool, calm, and fresh. Leddicus gave her his best smile.

“Thanks for coming. Much appreciated.” I tried not to be overly familiar.

Leddicus chatted to her while I made a careful check that I had everything we needed: passports, tickets, laptop, and camera. I checked each item off my list. Then I wandered round the flat, double-checking just to be sure I hadn’t missed anything.

“Okay, I think we’re good to go.”

We each grabbed some of the bags. I double-locked the door, and we stepped into the lift together.

Leddicus claimed the front seat, and we settled down for the drive to airport. The caffeine effect was lessening, and I felt like nodding off, but I checked myself. I knew I should stay awake to keep track of the conversation. An animated Leddicus told Julie about seeing himself on TV.

“There will be more of that. You’re on the front page of a heap of papers this morning.” She maneuvered skillfully around a broken-down truck.

“I am?” He grinned from ear to ear.

“You are in many different languages, and I managed to file my story late last night, just in time for the first editions of the papers. They should be available at the airport.”

The deeper I got into this circus, the more disconcerted I felt. I wanted the recognition and the financial rewards, but all the hassle of the publicity, paparazzi, and pressure did not sit well with this academic. I knew I had to get used to it, but I was a long way from that. It still made me groan. I wished I could just embrace it, but all I truly wanted was a quiet life. I guess that was why I opted to study history in the first place.

I snapped back into focus. It suddenly dawned on me what she had just said. “You sent off copy? Have you forgotten that I asked to see any copy before publication?” My anger was rising.

“I know, but I didn’t think a call at one in the morning would have endeared me to you. I have a hard copy in my briefcase for you.”

I was still angry. “That’s not the point. Couldn’t it have waited?”

“No, Gerhardt, it couldn’t. A day late on this story might as well be a year late.”

I couldn’t argue with that so I didn’t try. “How on earth did you manage to get your copy in last night?”

“Bit of a workaholic. Just couldn’t rest until it was in. I e-mailed it over at about two in the morning and then gave the night editor a call. We wrapped it up in about half an hour.”

“Did you have time for a lie-in this morning?”

“Heck no. Was up and doing by six thirty. Had a mass of e-mails to wade through.” She paused as a stream of brake lights flashed on in the three lanes ahead. She slowed to a crawl and then rummaged in her pocket. “Thought you would be interested in this. I have a cutting service subscription, and this popped through this morning.” She handed me a crumpled piece of paper.

“It’s from a free paper they give out at Tube stations. I think it’s called the Metro. My guess is that it’s also appeared in other publications.”

Metro News

14 June 2009

Bug Resurrected after 120,000 Years

Scientists have brought a newly discovered bug back to life after more than one hundred and twenty thousand years in hibernation. It raises hopes that dormant life might be revived on Mars. The tiny purple microbe, dubbed Herminiimonas glaciei, lay trapped beneath nearly two miles of ice in . It took eleven months to revive it by gently warming it in an incubator. The bug finally sprang back to life and began producing fresh colonies of purple-brown bacteria.

I smoothed out the creases and read about a bug found in ice samples extracted from three kilometers under . A team from , headed up by Dr. Jennifer Loveland-Curtze, carried out a range of experiments. Apparently, after what they calculated to be a nap of one hundred and twenty thousand years, they woke up the bug.

“Fascinating!” The article genuinely surprised me. “But this is a microscopic bug. Leddicus, well, he’s a full-grown man.”

“Mmm, I had noticed, but it’s something at least, and there is ongoing stuff about cryogenics, which I think is a load of nonsense. At least I did until I met Leddicus. There are lots of things that science tells us are sorted and understood, but then they go and find something that stands it on its head.” The traffic was still at a snail’s pace. She was rummaging in her pocket again, and she handed over another dog-eared press cutting.

“From one of the German papers, a flute made out of the tusk of a prehistoric monster. I thought they existed before people were around. Yet here we find they are making music from its tusk!”

“Weird. Whatever next.” I folded up the paper neatly after I had skimmed the article and smoothed down its curled corners. “Perhaps the Italian researchers will suddenly find all the answers to the curiosity that is Leddicus, and the world’s press will turn from cynics to believers and be all over us like a rash. We’ll never eat or sleep again. You included!” I laughed.

She laughed with me as she swung on to the slip road leading up to the drop-off zone for departures. After parking neatly in front of the Alitalia airline section, Julie popped open the boot and helped stack our bags onto a trolley.

“Thanks for the ride. Much appreciated.” I shook her hand.

Julie hugged Leddicus and kissed both cheeks. He just grinned and attempted to return the kisses, but just got in a muddle and bumped her nose. She stepped back from him and gave him a friendly shove on the shoulder.

“You have fun now!” She turned to me. “I’ll see you in !” As we walked toward the terminal, she called after me, “Don’t forget to text me your flight details, so I can collect you from Heathrow.”

The huge automatic doors gobbled us up, and we stepped onto the moving pavement and glided along through the busy airport toward the escalator. I pushed the trolley onto the gently sloping grid. It gripped into place, and we were gradually transported up to the mezzanine. I loaded my credit card into the check-in machine, and it spat out the sticky tape for the luggage. I fixed these on our cases and popped them onto the conveyor, which transported them away to the appropriate loading bay. I was very smug about the whole Swiss airport experience. We are pretty slick us Swiss.

Leddicus was starstuck. The sights and sounds so overwhelmed him. He kept stopping and looking around. His mouth was wide open. I was constantly grabbing his sleeve so he didn’t get lost. He was so amazed that he was struck dumb. There was too much to see and experience, and he didn’t have the capacity to question me about anything. I couldn’t begin to imagine how it must be feeling to see all this for the first time. In a strange way, I envied him.

We were finally on the main walkway running the length of the airport. The massive windows gave a panoramic view of the airfield. He stopped and glued his face to the glass. It misted up, and it was a full two minutes before he turned to me.

“Big cars!” he said breathlessly, full of wonder and adrenalin.

“Not cars. Planes. We’re going on one of those to .”

“How will it get there? The roads? They are too small!”

I bent my arm level with my waist, extended my hand flat, and then gradually moved it forward and upward. “They fly.”

He pinned his face to the glass again and then looked back at me, incredulous. “They flap those bits at the side? That’s not possible. How can they fly?”

I laughed aloud at his simple logic. “I don’t know. I’m a historian, not an avionics engineer. But trust me. They do. Sorry to drag you away. We’re on a schedule here.”

He walked alongside me. His eyes never left the airfield for a second. He stopped a few times, and when I grabbed his wrist to hurry him along once, I could feel his pulse pounding like a sledgehammer. The only adrenaline rush I got at an airport is my fear as I watch my case being trundled away on the conveyor belt. I worry I will never see it again. I usually packed my whole life into that one medium-sized, battered case.

We arrived at the departure lounge, and I sat as far away from the newspaper sellers as possible. I had seen enough smiling pictures of Leddicus and grumpy ones of me for a while. I thought perhaps I should hunt down a paper with Julie’s copy in, but she had given me a hard copy. I wanted to keep as low a profile as possible. I rounded up some strong coffee. Even though it was early, I got Leddicus a small glass of wine. He looked more in shock than when I first saw him at the hospital. He gulped at it gratefully, and he was still lost for words. Every now and then, he would turn to me, open his mouth, say nothing, shake his head, and take another sip of wine.

Our flight was called, and we headed toward the Alitalia gate. We walked along the boarding corridor, and the only hint that might tip off Leddicus that we were getting onto the plane was the smiling, welcome hostesses. I found our seats and parked him by the window. I fiddled with the hand luggage, stacking it carefully in the overhead lockers, while he, still bemused, gazed out of the window. I helped him fasten his seat belt. Then he watched fascinated, without comprehension, as the hostesses went through their safety procedure dance.

He still had not spoken. The engines, which had just been purring quietly as we gradually maneuvered into position, now roared and throbbed to full throttle, getting louder and louder. Leddicus looked at me, panic-stricken. He could feel the pressure building as the engines revved up notch after notch, moving to optimum thrust. Then we were suddenly galloping down the runway. The airport buildings flew past as the Boeing 747 pummeled down the tarmac. I pointed to the window, keen he did not miss a thing.

“Look! Look!” I said as the runway began to shrink away.

He gasped and held his breath. His hands gripped the armrests. His face turned white. He bent his nose against the glass. He stared and stared as the airport and city rapidly shank to Lilliputian size. Soon all that could be identified was patches of green, slivers of blue, sparkles of ice white, and arching far to the endless horizon, the vivid azure sky. Then the cork popped, and he did not stop gabbling. The questions gushed out of him and tumbled over each other. They were mixed up and all wrapped in a heady ten-year-old-boy excitement. My head began to ache, but I was not complaining. His animation was intoxicating and infectious, and unless he had an Oscar for acting, it was the real McCoy.

The flight passed swiftly as he jabbered on, pressed every available button, and visited the toilet seven times just so he could walk up and down the aisle. He chatted to everyone he passed and never once ceased to grin like a Cheshire cat.

The plane began its descent to airport, and Leddicus became silent again. The view from the window held him spellbound. Rome customs and passport control were simple and straightforward. Fortunately, my fears were unfounded as our cases came shuffling toward us on the conveyor belt.

We stepped out of the airport into the midafternoon sun, and I gave Leddicus a gentle punch on the arm. “Welcome to , mate!”

He just stood there and gazed around, looking bemused and astonished. He lapped up the view from the window as the taxi transported us to the hotel. I was pretty exhausted, but Leddicus, although having a lull in questions, was as full of bounce as a six-week-old puppy.

Even though it was the last thing on my mind, once we had stowed our cases in our room, we went back out and wandered around the streets for a while. He had so many questions and yet more questions. I patiently answered him for about fifteen minutes, and then I stopped and held up my hand.

A mock frown was on my face. “Enough, my friend.” I put my finger to his mouth. “Zip it for a bit, okay? I’ve run out of steam for today.”

He shrugged, looking a little crestfallen, and then smiled and nodded. We wandered silently around the back streets for an hour or so. I eventually found a small, quiet tavern in which we ate a delicious supper. As we chatted about the plans for the next few days, we polished off a bottle of excellent Chianti, and I finally managed to get an early night. I was snoring by nine o’clock.

***

Ready for shipment. Outlets all agreed. Finance transfer to Swiss repository scheduled for tomorrow morning.

Eduardo hit reply and typed rapidly. His slender finger flew across the keypad.

Further seventeen items acquired as requested. To be included in third shipment. Confirm acceptance. Finance is double due to extended journey time and minimum length of production. Will call at 1:00 a.m. tonight with further details.

The encrypted e-mail blinked away. Eduardo checked his watch. He had two hours before the call. He opened the ever-growing manuscript document on his laptop and began to work. The new copy received yesterday was most excellent. This would help to fill in some of the gaps and put a bit more meat on the bones.