Surviving Antarctica Page 4

  Like every other kid in America, Steve had learned from teleschool that after the government went broke, it canceled all scientific research.

  “To simplify,” the Secretary continued, “we set our pole one hundred fifty miles from your landing point. Scott’s team had to hike more than seven hundred fifty miles.”

  “One hundred fifty miles isn’t a break!” Steve said to the television. The Secretary recited the mileage as if kids hiked 150 miles through ice and snow all the time.

  “Second, Scott had to worry about returning from the Pole. If you make it”—the Secretary paused and smiled at the kids—“we’ll pick you up in a helicopter.”

  Steve felt sick to his stomach, but Robert grinned as if the Secretary were doing them a big favor.

  “Scott readied himself for the journey by storing food at various places for his return from the Pole,” the Secretary continued. “You will need to carry food and fuel from the ship, but to make it even easier, we have deposited additional food and fuel for your journey. The depots will be twenty-five miles apart, except for the first depot, which will be fifty miles from the ship.”

  Despite the Secretary’s so-called breaks, Steve wondered if the five kids would even make it to the first depot. He had been wrong. This series wasn’t going to be a kinder, gentler Survivor. It was going to be an icy hell.

  “Third, Scott and his men relied on dogs, ponies, and a primitive motor vehicle, but for the final stage the men pulled their supplies to the Pole on sledges. You can go much faster than Scott, as you will have enough transport so that no one has to walk.” She paused and smiled. “At least at first.”

  At least at first? Steve examined the kids’ faces to see if any of them had registered the Secretary’s carefully chosen words. They all looked dazed, not as if they were being briefed on a potentially fatal mission. Listen! he wanted to yell at them.

  “Otherwise, to the extent possible, the journey will be authentic and true to Scott’s original expedition. You will have the supplies that Scott had. You will eat the food that Scott did.” The Secretary beamed again. “If no one has any more questions …”

  Billy and Robert raised their hands.

  The Secretary smiled at the camera, ignoring the boys. “As you all know from watching Historical Survivor, you’ll find clues on the way, but the calamities will find you. Now, while the contestants and I chat about the ship, the audience will watch a video about Captain Robert F. Scott.”

  The screen suddenly went dark. First, a British flag waved against an icy background. Then a black-and-white photograph of a bedraggled group appeared as a voice intoned, “Robert F. Scott and the four men who died with him on the expedition to reach the South Pole in 1912 went on the worst journey in the world….”

  Steve flicked the television off. He was too upset to watch more. He had a terrible feeling about the series he would be forced to edit over the next month. His eyes traveled around his bare hut.

  But if he quit his job, how would he eat?

  To survive, Steve knew that he had to take care of himself.

  If I had such fat lips, I wouldn’t make them even bigger with lipstick, Polly thought, staring at the Secretary’s red mouth.

  Since the Secretary acted as if she didn’t see him, Billy slowly lowered his hand. He had wanted to ask about their food. The Secretary had said that they would eat only what Robert F. Scott ate. Ever since he was a little boy, Billy had liked only three chip flavors: beef, chicken, and broccoli. Chips hadn’t been invented in 1912; food then was soft instead of crunchy, and Billy thought it sounded generally disgusting.

  “If you want, you can get up and stretch,” the Secretary said. “We have a long ride to the ship.”

  “The ship?” Polly said.

  I’ll soon see ice and snow, Grace thought.

  “You’re leaving tonight,” the Secretary said.

  “Tonight!” Polly burst out. “But I need to say good-bye to my mother!” The Department of Entertainment had discouraged Polly’s mother from coming. But she had managed to get train tickets somehow. Then her train had been delayed, and she wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow morning.

  “It’s a compucraft.” The Secretary acted as if she hadn’t heard Polly. “The newest and the best. Your trip to the Antarctic will take five days.”

  Andrew hoped that the boat had a TV.

  The sooner, the better, Robert thought.

  I’ll have to find something to eat soon, Billy thought.

  “But my mother’s come a long way. I want to say good-bye!” Polly cried out.

  “The limousine will take us in an hour.” The Secretary smiled as if she hadn’t heard. “Everything that you need will be on the ship. You’re not allowed to take anything but your backpack with a change of clothes.”

  A limo. Billy immediately felt better. Once he and his parents had ridden in a limo. While his dad had practiced his speech to the toy company executives and his mom had looked out the windows at the big houses, Billy had been astounded to find drawer after drawer stuffed with goodies. If Billy could figure out how to get to the limousine first, no one would be the wiser, and then he’d have plenty of extra food.

  The Secretary held up one finger, and the various aides who had been hanging around sprang to attention. “Take them back to their hotel rooms,” she ordered.

  The hotel, Entertainment Headquarters, was adjacent to the Department of Entertainment. Andrew had loved the soft bed.

  An aide dressed in gray jeans and a T-shirt fluttered around Polly. The woman had no expression on her face. She looks like an EduTV zombie, Polly thought.

  One of the Secretary’s assistants moved next to Robert’s chair. “When does the show actually start?” Robert asked.

  “We begin filming the episodes on the ship,” the Secretary said. “I’ll have a cozy chat with you on the way.” She beamed at them. “It’s one of our Survivor traditions.”

  Robert met the Secretary’s gaze and promised himself that he would survive long enough to have a tradition.

  An aide faced Grace. “Let’s go,” she said.

  Grace stared at the aide’s hair, which fell to her feet like a tent. She must use that unnatural stuff called Fastgrow, Grace decided.

  A staffer tapped Billy sharply on his shoulder, but Billy was lost in thought, working out the details of his plan to find food.

  5

  “YOU HAVE AN hour to get cleaned up,” Andrew’s aide told him. “I’ll be back for you at six o’clock sharp.”

  “Great,” Andrew said.

  “I’ll knock when we’re ready to go,” the man said.

  Andrew didn’t answer. He had picked up the remote for the television and was headed for the bed.

  After his aide shut the door, Robert counted to sixty and then slipped out into the hallway. The elevator arrived right away. He stared at the advertisements playing on the elevator walls.

  On one wall an old man with wrinkled lips and closed eyes smiled at him. “Dream Hat, a camera for your dreams,” the man sang.

  On the other wall a woman’s hair was growing an inch per second. “With one dose you, too, can have floor-length hair,” the woman in the advertisement promised.

  The elevator stopped, and Robert walked into the lobby.

  The elders of Grace’s tribe had warned her about rooms like this, with luxuries like the mood-control ring next to the door.

  “So you haven’t tried the mood ring?” Grace’s talkative aide was chattering away. “See, there are twenty different moods. If you push this button, the mood is Valentine’s Day Romantic.”

  The aide pushed the button and sappy music played. Bright red hearts appeared on the window panels, but the lights in the room itself dimmed as if it were dusk indoors.

  “Turn it off, okay?” Grace said.

  “It’ll go off in a minute,” the aide said in a hurt voice. “Do you need anything?”

  “No.” Grace sat down on the edge of the bed.

 
As the woman left, Grace watched her step to the side to avoid closing the door on her unnaturally long hair. Sick.

  Grace sat in the reddish light, listening to violins.

  She couldn’t believe how wrong modern people were. They didn’t know that a person’s mood came from the inside. She glared at the evil-looking ring.

  Billy peered out the hotel window at the limo on the street below. It had to be waiting for them.

  He peeked into the hall. The aides had all disappeared. He grabbed his backpack and snuck out into the hallway. If anybody saw him, so what? The flat-faced aide hadn’t told him to stay in the room, had he?

  Billy walked down the stairway to avoid detection, opened a door that led to the lobby, and headed for the grand front entrance. When he reached the lobby, he noticed Robert, who was standing with his back to him in a corner. Who’s the guy Robert is talking to? Billy wondered.

  “Everybody calls her Hot Sauce,” Billy overheard the stranger say to Robert as he walked by. Billy pushed his way through the revolving door, activating the exit pads. They played a few bars from the theme song of Why Didn’t You Tell Me You Liked Bananas? This was a famous Department of Entertainment holomovie that was supposed to teach little kids to count. Along with hundreds of other kids at the theater, Billy had counted and danced with holobananas.

  Outside, the chilly late-October air hit Billy as he exited. The long black car was waiting quietly at the bottom of the stairs. Billy circled it. The license plates read SURVIVOR! The driver was slumped over the wheel.

  Billy tapped on the window.

  The driver looked up. Billy realized that he had gotten lucky. The man looked beaten down, as if he didn’t care about anything.

  Billy smiled politely. “I’m one of the contestants. Mind if I put my backpack in the back?”

  The driver shrugged.

  Billy climbed into the backseat of the black limo.

  The driver put his head back down on the wheel.

  Billy unslung his backpack and opened a drawer. It was stocked with Billy’s dream foods: nuts, beef chips, Chocobombs, crackers, and health-food bars. Billy loaded the contents into his backpack. He emptied the other drawers until his backpack was stuffed. Now, where to hide the swollen backpack?

  The limo clock read 5:50. Billy saw that the Secretary, trailed by assistants, was walking up the steps of the hotel. He worried about what she would do if she saw him wandering around outside. But if he got some time alone with her, Billy felt he might be able to impress her. If he was her favorite, maybe he’d have a better shot at being MVP. Billy knocked on the glass partition and spoke into the microphone. “Can I keep my backpack in the front? I’m afraid someone will sit on it.”

  Billy didn’t wait for the driver’s answer before he opened the side door and hopped out. He stashed his backpack on the floor of the front seat and ran to catch up with the Secretary.

  “Why, Billy, what are you doing?” The Secretary’s fur coat was red, like her hair. She wore red leather boots and carried a red purse. Billy had never seen anyone whose parts all matched.

  “You look great,” Billy said. Since she didn’t stop frowning, he added, “My head hurt. I was just walking around.”

  “I’ll need to speak to your aide,” she said crossly.

  Billy followed her red fur coat through the revolving doors into the lobby. “Besides, I’m excited,” he said to distract her.

  Her green eyes brightened. “So am I.”

  They stood together in front of the elevator. “Are you going up?” Billy asked, pushing the button.

  “Just to the second floor,” the Secretary said. “I want to give my assistants some last-minute instructions.”

  Billy’s heart was pounding. If his scheme was going to work, he knew that he needed to beat the Secretary to the limo.

  “You seem like an intelligent boy,” the Secretary said as they waited. “What are you going to do with the money?”

  “Go to high school and college.”

  “And then?”

  “Make a lot of money.” Billy smiled his most engaging grin.

  “You and I will get along just fine,” the Secretary said.

  The elevator bell pinged, and Billy felt as if he had scored. He followed the Secretary inside. “I’ve been a fan of Survivor for a long time.”

  “You’re sweet.” The Secretary smiled at him. Whew! She didn’t seem at all suspicious. “See you in a minute,” the Secretary said as she got off.

  “Sure.” Billy got ready to race to his room.

  6

  POLLY FOLLOWED HER EduTV aide down the long flight of stairs to the street. Another aide was hanging out by the limo, and Polly wondered which of the kids was already there.

  The staffer opened the limo door for her.

  Polly didn’t bother saying good-bye. As she slid in, she saw Billy. He was sipping a drink from a crystal glass.

  “Polly.” He smiled.

  “How long have you been here?” she asked.

  “Just a few minutes,” Billy said. He felt it in his gut: His plan was going to work. His aide had accepted his story that he had gone for a walk and put his backpack in the limo. All he had to do now was transport the stuffed backpack onto the ship without arousing anyone’s suspicions.

  Polly watched Robert and Grace walk down the long steps toward the limo. Their assistants flanked them.

  The Secretary followed behind them. She was talking on a cell phone.

  Andrew and his aide lagged behind. Polly had counted how many steps it would take for the Secretary to arrive at the car and order the driver to begin their journey. Polly was one hundred and five steps away from the point of no return.

  An assistant opened the car door, and the Secretary climbed in. “Everyone got their backpacks?” she asked.

  The kids nodded. Andrew clambered in at the last moment.

  “Do you need anything else, ma’am?” the woman who had accompanied Polly asked the Secretary.

  The Secretary shook her head.

  Robert’s assistant rapped on the driver’s door. “The boss is ready.”

  The Secretary’s staff waved as the long car took off down the narrow street.

  “I have a gift for your team,” the Secretary said, pulling a watch out of her purse. “Now, who looks really responsible?” She searched all their faces.

  Choose me, Billy prayed.

  A Tantasm, Model 120. Polly recognized the watch from the ads.

  I’m going to live by the sun, the moon, and the stars, Grace promised herself.

  Nice watch, Robert thought, wondering how much it would sell for.

  Andrew never got chosen in things like this, so he looked out the window.

  “You.” Her finger pointed right at Billy.

  Billy beamed. He was her favorite. He had known it.

  The Secretary handed Billy the watch. “Does anybody else have a watch?” She carefully studied their faces.

  No one said anything.

  Billy had pawned his a long time ago. He strapped the team watch onto his wrist. It looked really high-tech. He started playing with the buttons.

  “Great,” the Secretary said.

  Billy looked up. “Hey. I can’t change the time.”

  “That’s correct. No matter what time zone you’re in, you’ll stay on what I call ‘studio time’ for the convenience of our production department.”

  Polly looked at the watch on Billy’s wrist. Fantasy time. If only this survivor show turned out to be a fantasy and not a horror show.

  “You’ll make our lives easier if you live by its time,” the Secretary finished.

  Or die by its time, Polly thought.

  Who cares about making the Secretary’s life easier? Robert asked himself.

  With the buttons disabled, the watch no longer interested Billy. He leaned back and enjoyed the soft leather seats, the headrest, and the heater. He tried to guess the number of packs of Chocobombs in his backpack. He had never had so much
candy before in his life.

  It was dark outside, but Polly saw lots of people on the street. A man carrying a few sheets of plywood paused and stared at their limo as it drove past him. Polly wanted to say, “Don’t envy us.”

  A while later Andrew heard something and looked around. Billy was snoring with his mouth wide open.

  It was strange that the kids had spoken so little to one another. Polly had already decided that Grace, the only other girl on the trip, didn’t like to talk. Andrew looked as if he were going to cry if she smiled at him, and she seemed beneath Robert’s and Billy’s notice. The five of them could be together for months. She stared out the window at the buildings rushing by. The worst was that she hadn’t even gotten to say good-bye to Mama.

  Before Polly left, Mama cried over her and bought her favorite foods—blueberry and pickle chips—and damned the government. And then, in a final frenzy, she swore never, ever to watch television again—after the Antarctic Historical Survivor series was over, of course.

  “We could win,” Polly had tried to reassure her.

  “Ah, you could,” her mother said. “Wouldn’t that be lovely? You know, the guy from Civil War Historical Survivor has his own game show.” That man was at least six feet five, with a craggy face and muscles like mountains. “You don’t have muscles, Polly, but you have the Memory.” Her mother smiled sweetly at her.

  “But what use will the Memory be at the South Pole?” Polly had asked. Terror rose in her soul at just the thought of long stretches of whiteness. The Antarctic had to be like blank paper. Tears had rolled out of the corners of Mama’s eyes and down her face. “Who knows?” she said.

  Polly closed her eyes. She liked sitting in this limo. She wished that she could stay here for three months. Limo Survivor would be just fine.

  The Secretary cleared her throat and pulled down her short skirt, but Grace noticed that it was still way above her knees.

  “I like to get together with my contestants before the action starts.” The Secretary patted her coiffed hair. “I want you to know that I’m on your side.”

  Robert had tried to talk a man in the lobby of the hotel into letting him use his cell phone. The man had refused, but they had gotten into a conversation about the Department of Entertainment. Robert had learned that the Secretary had a nickname. It fit her, and Robert wanted to call this woman “Hot Sauce” now. Instead, he forced himself to use his most polite tone. “Ms. Secretary, I still have some questions.”