domes made of ice bricks; actually wind-snow. Highly compact and hard snow we cut in the nearby drifts and cart here. They are laid upward in a spiral of diminishing diameter. If we had wood for scaffolds we would make bigger ones, but we migrate anyhow. So we abandon these igloos when the snowfall gets too heavy and buries them completely.
“Come, let us enter. Watch the ice steps, Rockson—they are steep and dark.”
They passed through curtains and entered the open space inside—a pleasantly lit chamber hung with pelts. On a platform at the far end sat two Eskimo children in thick layers of clothing. They giggled upon seeing the strangers and crawled under the furs. In the middle of the room a small metal stove let its heat into the center but not the edges of the room. The walls were all glazed ice.
“A marvel of engineering,” Scheransky said, “saves bricks too. Imagine, to make buildings out of frozen water!”
“Don’t you know your own history?” Rock asked. “You Russians used to make huge palaces of ice during the Czar’s winter carnivals, which were called Moslenitza. That was in the nineteenth century. Your Ivan the Terrible built an ice palace of clear ice on an island in the Volga River each winter. He made sure the walls were crystal clear on his side—he could see the ice castle from his own warm, heated palace. He filled the ice palace with naked virgins and horny dwarves. Ivan watched them try to keep warm together until they froze to death. Then he had his soldiers replace them with fresh victims. The sadistic pleasure of a diseased mind—right?”
Scheransky blushed. “I don’t believe it—but if it is true, that is one reason why we Communists had a revolution to overthrow the mad czars.”
“But Soviet Russia still goes on torturing people all over the world,” Rockson retorted heatedly.
Tinglim protested, “Stop! This is a peaceful house, no arguments! Come, let us sit on the bed platform. Because it is raised, it is the warmest place in the igloo. Let us have nice hot tea and discuss affairs of men, without women around.” He clapped his hands together.
The Nara women withdrew after leaving teapots and cups.
It was warm. Rock and the others removed their ice boots at the edge of the platform and leaned against polar-bear-fur pillows and sipped the hot buttered tea.
“This is more like it,” said Detroit. “But I don’t understand how it can be, say, sixty degrees Fahrenheit here, and the ice wall doesn’t melt.”
“It is caused by currents of air from blow-holes,” said Tinglim proudly, “Plus, of course, the force fields . . .”
“Force fields?” exclaimed Rock. “So that’s the humming I thought I heard.”
“Yes,” Tinglim said. “The Ice City people gave us devices to generate force fields along the ice walls to prevent the warm and cold air from mixing. See the little boxes every five feet along the sides? Go over and touch a wall.”
Rock did so, cautiously. There seemed to be some sort of almost magnetic resistance in the air which his hand had difficulty pushing through. Rockson returned to his seat.
“We could use some of these force field boxes,” Rock said, thinking how Schecter would love to get his hands on one, dismantle it, and see what makes it tick.
After the tea, Rock and Tinglim sat alone by the small metal fireplace in the center of the igloo while the rest of the Rock Team explored other areas of the Eskimo encampment.
The Nara chief told the Doomsday Warrior legends of how his people experienced the Nuke War a hundred years earlier.
“My tribe saw the white lines in the sky, followed by the blossoming of orange glows in the south—in the United States and southern Canada. That glow was followed a few days later by terrible storms here, and then the falling of the ‘burning rains.’ There are tales from the old ones—who were children then—of mysterious sickness. Red boils on the skin, dryness of throat, a gradual
“Come, let us enter. Watch the ice steps, Rockson—they are steep and dark.”
They passed through curtains and entered the open space inside—a pleasantly lit chamber hung with pelts. On a platform at the far end sat two Eskimo children in thick layers of clothing. They giggled upon seeing the strangers and crawled under the furs. In the middle of the room a small metal stove let its heat into the center but not the edges of the room. The walls were all glazed ice.
“A marvel of engineering,” Scheransky said, “saves bricks too. Imagine, to make buildings out of frozen water!”
“Don’t you know your own history?” Rock asked. “You Russians used to make huge palaces of ice during the Czar’s winter carnivals, which were called Moslenitza. That was in the nineteenth century. Your Ivan the Terrible built an ice palace of clear ice on an island in the Volga River each winter. He made sure the walls were crystal clear on his side—he could see the ice castle from his own warm, heated palace. He filled the ice palace with naked virgins and horny dwarves. Ivan watched them try to keep warm together until they froze to death. Then he had his soldiers replace them with fresh victims. The sadistic pleasure of a diseased mind—right?”
Scheransky blushed. “I don’t believe it—but if it is true, that is one reason why we Communists had a revolution to overthrow the mad czars.”
“But Soviet Russia still goes on torturing people all over the world,” Rockson retorted heatedly.
Tinglim protested, “Stop! This is a peaceful house, no arguments! Come, let us sit on the bed platform. Because it is raised, it is the warmest place in the igloo. Let us have nice hot tea and discuss affairs of men, without women around.” He clapped his hands together.
The Nara women withdrew after leaving teapots and cups.
It was warm. Rock and the others removed their ice boots at the edge of the platform and leaned against polar-bear-fur pillows and sipped the hot buttered tea.
“This is more like it,” said Detroit. “But I don’t understand how it can be, say, sixty degrees Fahrenheit here, and the ice wall doesn’t melt.”
“It is caused by currents of air from blow-holes,” said Tinglim proudly, “Plus, of course, the force fields . . .”
“Force fields?” exclaimed Rock. “So that’s the humming I thought I heard.”
“Yes,” Tinglim said. “The Ice City people gave us devices to generate force fields along the ice walls to prevent the warm and cold air from mixing. See the little boxes every five feet along the sides? Go over and touch a wall.”
Rock did so, cautiously. There seemed to be some sort of almost magnetic resistance in the air which his hand had difficulty pushing through. Rockson returned to his seat.
“We could use some of these force field boxes,” Rock said, thinking how Schecter would love to get his hands on one, dismantle it, and see what makes it tick.
After the tea, Rock and Tinglim sat alone by the small metal fireplace in the center of the igloo while the rest of the Rock Team explored other areas of the Eskimo encampment.
The Nara chief told the Doomsday Warrior legends of how his people experienced the Nuke War a hundred years earlier.
“My tribe saw the white lines in the sky, followed by the blossoming of orange glows in the south—in the United States and southern Canada. That glow was followed a few days later by terrible storms here, and then the falling of the ‘burning rains.’ There are tales from the old ones—who were children then—of mysterious sickness. Red boils on the skin, dryness of throat, a gradual
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