problems.’
Glen felt too cold to argue. He wanted a closer look at the lock.
‘I’m warning you,’ said Victoria. ‘Interfering with that ice is suicide. It will kill you.’
Megan began taking photos.
No one seemed to be listening to Victoria.
'There's writing on the lock,' Megan said. 'But not in English.'
Pure black, the huge square padlock dwarfed Glen’s laptop in size. The shackle alone was thicker than Carl’s wrist. Glen traced the strange lettering.
‘What language is this?’
'Can anyone read that?' asked Carl.
Glen wasn't surprised they couldn't.
'Oh, wait a second,' said Megan. 'I think my phone can.'
She began tapping through apps. 'I downloaded this app on vacation. It interprets foreign road signs. You take a picture of the sign and it translates the words into English.'
'Will it work on this?' asked Alex.
'Why not?' said Megan. 'They're all just words.'
She waved Glen back. 'You're blocking the light.'
Megan leaned close to take the picture.
'It's working,' she said.
'What's it say?' asked Alex.
'Hold on. Okay, here it is.'
Megan looked up suspiciously from her phone. 'I think it made a mistake.'
'Why?' asked Carl.
Megan showed him the phone.
'Shit, Glen, get away from it,' Carl warned. 'Everyone get back.'
How can this be dangerous now? thought Glen. It can't fall any further.
Carl sounded deadly serious, so Glen retreated.
Alex read the phone's screen. 'Holy shit!'
'What's it say?' asked Glen.
'Read for yourself,' pointed Alex.
Glen did. Megan’s phone had translated three words:
CHERNOBYL NUCLEAR FACILITY
#
Megan pointed urgently around the ice. 'What are we supposed to do with that ?'
'Is it still radioactive?' asked Chrissie, sounding close to panic.
'We’ll know soon enough,' replied Carl.
Chrissie’s eyes widened. 'You mean radiation sickness?'
Carl nodded gravely.
‘Oh, God no!’ cried Victoria. ‘Not that.’
'What can we do?' asked Megan. 'We must be able to do something. If it’s radioactive, that means it’s poisoning us right now.'
'We bury it,' said Glen. 'At Chernobyl they buried everything in a big cement sarcophagus. We'll do the same. We'll bury it under the ice with Ericsson.'
'With just one knife?' asked Carl.
‘We’ll never do it fast enough,’ said Chrissie. ‘It’s going to kill us! It’s killing us right now!’
Victoria covered her face with both hands. ‘Radiation poisoning is the worst way to die. The bomb would have been better.’
'We need more tools,' said Alex.
Glen scanned the chamber for anything tool-like. 'The tip of Megan's umbrella?'
'Plastic,' said Megan.
'Come on people, think,' said Carl. 'Every minute we're accumulating radiation. Is there anything we can possibly use as a tool?'
'Pieces of the bomb?' suggested Alex. 'Those tailfins could chip ice.'
'Are you insane?' said Victoria. 'Why not just detonate it now and save us the bother?'
'They're welded on,' said Carl.
Megan pointed at Victoria. 'Wait, Victoria. Last night I felt something hard in your apron. It was poking me, remember? What was that?'
Victoria frowned. 'Just my hip.'
Megan shook her head. 'No, it wasn't your hip. Have you checked your apron pocket?'
'Of course.'
‘Well check again!’ Carl yelled. ‘We are all dying right now, Victoria. Hurry!’
'I don't need to,' answered Victoria, suddenly flustered.
She's got something , realized Glen. She's hiding something in her apron .
Carl's voice became threatening. 'Victoria, if you have a tool, we need it.'
The group surrounded Victoria.
'I haven't got anything,' she shrieked, turning like a cornered animal. 'I've checked my pocket a dozen times.'
'Just show us then,' said Megan.
Chrissie reached for Victoria's apron. 'You're lying. Is it food? Have you got food?'
'Get away from me!' Victoria swatted away Chrissie's hand. 'How dare you! What gives you the right?'
'Take off the apron,' ordered Carl.
Screw this , thought Glen. I'm not dying from radiation
Glen felt too cold to argue. He wanted a closer look at the lock.
‘I’m warning you,’ said Victoria. ‘Interfering with that ice is suicide. It will kill you.’
Megan began taking photos.
No one seemed to be listening to Victoria.
'There's writing on the lock,' Megan said. 'But not in English.'
Pure black, the huge square padlock dwarfed Glen’s laptop in size. The shackle alone was thicker than Carl’s wrist. Glen traced the strange lettering.
‘What language is this?’
'Can anyone read that?' asked Carl.
Glen wasn't surprised they couldn't.
'Oh, wait a second,' said Megan. 'I think my phone can.'
She began tapping through apps. 'I downloaded this app on vacation. It interprets foreign road signs. You take a picture of the sign and it translates the words into English.'
'Will it work on this?' asked Alex.
'Why not?' said Megan. 'They're all just words.'
She waved Glen back. 'You're blocking the light.'
Megan leaned close to take the picture.
'It's working,' she said.
'What's it say?' asked Alex.
'Hold on. Okay, here it is.'
Megan looked up suspiciously from her phone. 'I think it made a mistake.'
'Why?' asked Carl.
Megan showed him the phone.
'Shit, Glen, get away from it,' Carl warned. 'Everyone get back.'
How can this be dangerous now? thought Glen. It can't fall any further.
Carl sounded deadly serious, so Glen retreated.
Alex read the phone's screen. 'Holy shit!'
'What's it say?' asked Glen.
'Read for yourself,' pointed Alex.
Glen did. Megan’s phone had translated three words:
CHERNOBYL NUCLEAR FACILITY
#
Megan pointed urgently around the ice. 'What are we supposed to do with that ?'
'Is it still radioactive?' asked Chrissie, sounding close to panic.
'We’ll know soon enough,' replied Carl.
Chrissie’s eyes widened. 'You mean radiation sickness?'
Carl nodded gravely.
‘Oh, God no!’ cried Victoria. ‘Not that.’
'What can we do?' asked Megan. 'We must be able to do something. If it’s radioactive, that means it’s poisoning us right now.'
'We bury it,' said Glen. 'At Chernobyl they buried everything in a big cement sarcophagus. We'll do the same. We'll bury it under the ice with Ericsson.'
'With just one knife?' asked Carl.
‘We’ll never do it fast enough,’ said Chrissie. ‘It’s going to kill us! It’s killing us right now!’
Victoria covered her face with both hands. ‘Radiation poisoning is the worst way to die. The bomb would have been better.’
'We need more tools,' said Alex.
Glen scanned the chamber for anything tool-like. 'The tip of Megan's umbrella?'
'Plastic,' said Megan.
'Come on people, think,' said Carl. 'Every minute we're accumulating radiation. Is there anything we can possibly use as a tool?'
'Pieces of the bomb?' suggested Alex. 'Those tailfins could chip ice.'
'Are you insane?' said Victoria. 'Why not just detonate it now and save us the bother?'
'They're welded on,' said Carl.
Megan pointed at Victoria. 'Wait, Victoria. Last night I felt something hard in your apron. It was poking me, remember? What was that?'
Victoria frowned. 'Just my hip.'
Megan shook her head. 'No, it wasn't your hip. Have you checked your apron pocket?'
'Of course.'
‘Well check again!’ Carl yelled. ‘We are all dying right now, Victoria. Hurry!’
'I don't need to,' answered Victoria, suddenly flustered.
She's got something , realized Glen. She's hiding something in her apron .
Carl's voice became threatening. 'Victoria, if you have a tool, we need it.'
The group surrounded Victoria.
'I haven't got anything,' she shrieked, turning like a cornered animal. 'I've checked my pocket a dozen times.'
'Just show us then,' said Megan.
Chrissie reached for Victoria's apron. 'You're lying. Is it food? Have you got food?'
'Get away from me!' Victoria swatted away Chrissie's hand. 'How dare you! What gives you the right?'
'Take off the apron,' ordered Carl.
Screw this , thought Glen. I'm not dying from radiation
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