“The Ice’s Secret”

Jacques flipped through the pieces of the object and looked carefully at the picture, the handmade picture. He looked down at his watch for the coordinates of their first drill today. Then he clicked on the map of the coordinates and noticed an odd similarity between the picture in his hand and the picture on his watch. The topography looked very similar, however, he assumed that all of Antarctica was practically one giant ice sheet and was entirely the same in design. Jacques was supposed to turn all foreign materials the crew discovered over to headquarters. The drone would come in, grab the package, and fly back out, yet Jacques would still have all these questions. How did the object survive the climate of Antarctica? How long had it been here? Who did it belong to? And most importantly, what did all of it mean?

The drill was proving to be tougher than he had imagined. He had been told that this drill would be tougher than the other ones but his life task as an oil driller was starting to be an assignment he wished he hadn’t received. There were technology developers, resourcers, technology fixers, and counters, although he was unsure what the specific tasks of counters were. Along with his fellow peers out here on the ice, they hadn’t passed the test. The individuals who didn’t pass the test all became resourcers. There were miners, oil drillers, and nuclear plant taskers. 

“Jacques, what is on your mind man?” Oliver called out from across the glacial pass. 

Jacques was studying the drilling bit. The men had had no luck so far breaking through the thick sheets of this frozen expanse. 

“I think I need to ask headquarters to send in new drill bits, these just aren’t going to work,” Jacques yelled back.

“Alright man, your call,” Oliver replied. “I think I’m just going to start some new studies of the ground.”

Jacques looked out over the crew. To him, it just looked like 15 black specs on a white background, identifiable only by voice. “Men, let’s start our inspections for the night. I’m going to do a visual 100-yard ground survey. We can meet back at our new site, you all have the coordinates on your watches.”

Jacques began his trek. He wanted a minute away from the men to study the object and see if he could match the sketch to the map on his watch. He kept walking, way beyond 100 yards now, and likely walking in a way that made him look lost. That’s when he saw it—something out of a dream. It was a deep deep blue, clear as looking glass—open water. Right in the middle of a vast stretch of sea ice, was a body of water that stretched on for days. This was not on his map. All he was told of Antarctica was one long sheet of ice. There were of course rumors from the elders, the counters. Again, he still didn’t know what they did just that they seemed to know everything. His father was a counter. One day his dad told him his mother was going to die that day. She died that evening. So if his father told him that Antarctica was more than just white as far as the eye could see, he was inclined to believe him. 

Jacques headed back to the site.