I cut over the bay on the ice-boat, cruising at what was surely an irresponsible speed. I sheared through plates which had been thrust up by the action of the tide, skipped over hollows and gaps formed by the uneven tectonic motion of the ice. The wind sought to tear at my face, my flesh, but I was too securely bundled, hood, goggles, mask, coat, gloves- each item overlapped by one or two others so that I could lean the entire rig sideways just by swinging my weight over the runners without a knife of frosty air robbing me of my concentration. I checked behind me, the storm was following fast and I was not expected.
The beach swung from my left in front of me across to my right, a finger of sand projecting out into the bay with a stocky grey building perched nearly at its end like an odd insects being held up for examination. The building was the only feature of topography or contrast in the entire landscape. The beach was long, and the land behind it scarcely high enough to remain dry. The sand was white gold, the ice white crystal, the sky dull white blankness. The dark grey building ought to have contributed interest to this blankness, but it rather stood as an affront to the purity of the place, a stain on a white sheet.
I twisted the ice-boat toward it, turning into the wind to slow myself down. I ground to a halt not far from the band of shattered ice which marked the line of the beach. I picked my way through it and climbed the short stairs to the reinforced door. I knocked.
It took a few moments, but finally a little square port opened in door and I saw the glint of eyes beyond.
“My name is G------ K------. I’ve been sent here as a diplomatic liaison. I have papers, but I’d like to present them inside if I may. There’s a storm following hard behind and it’s cold out here.”
The eyes stared, “Diplomatic liaison? We’re a research facility. I- there’s not even a nearby local population. Diplomatic liaison?”
“As I said, I have papers,” I shrugged, “And as I said- it’s cold out here. Could we discuss this inside?”
The eyes turned hard, “Inside? Wait right there.”
The port closed and I thought I heard steps walking away. I waited, wondering where I could stow the boat so it wouldn’t be destroyed by the storm.
It was several long minutes, but my gear was designed for iceboat travel, standing still in the wind was no trouble at all. Finally the port opened again.
“...it shut up. Yes- now go,” different eyes looked out at me, “You’re a diplomatic liaison? Why would they send a diplomatic liaison here? Here, of all places?”
I shrugged again and held up my papers in their watertight case, “I suspect that it’s detailed in here. May I come in?”
A pause, “Give me the papers.” I did.
The sound of a seal being opened. Someone scratching their beard. A sigh, “Alright come in. We’ll look these over better when we’re not near this damned door.”
I could feel some of the tension drain from my shoulders, “Thank you. Before that, though- is there someplace to stow my boat? There’s a storm coming up and I’d hate to see it damaged.”
“Boat? You sailed here? But then you-” the voice caught itself, “Well, yes, but I’ll send one of the ensigns out- it’s time to check on the traps anyway. We’ll take care of it, don’t worry.”
Bolts being slid back, what sounded like keys. The door opened on a person short, stocky, clad in fur lined leather and wearing a dirty cap. They didn’t introduce themselves.
