Read Online Ice Reich by William Dietrich - Free Book Online Page B

with Jürgen Drexler seemed as "unsettled" as she'd described herself to be. Clearly she enjoyed his company: he was handsome, self-assured, and flattering in his attentions. The German was a man on the make, a comer who might go far in the new regime if this expedition was a success. An alliance with a bright, pathbreaking woman like Greta would likely make them a celebrity couple back home. And he was a dogged campaigner for her affection. Whenever possible, Hart noticed, Drexler would take the seat next to her in the mess. The others often left it empty as if waiting for his arrival. Yet the pilot wasn't sure what the woman made of this presumption. On a few occasions she made a point of sitting between two other men, reminding him of her move at Karinhall. The change, it seemed to Hart, gave her a bit of relief: Jürgen Drexler could be relentlessly persistent. Yet when Drexler talked late in the evening about their expedition— "to the crystal towers of Antarctica!"—he'd lose himself in romanticism and the biologist's eyes would take on a certain shine.
    Still, Hart didn't see in Greta's manner an emotional commitment to the German. There was none of the easy partnership of a romance or affair or betrothal. Her fingers were empty of rings and she retained the cautious aloofness attractive women sometimes adopt as a necessary shield. Drexler was clearly seeking an intimacy beyond simple friendship but she had a way of both admitting him and yet putting him off. All this was the subject of idle gossip, of course— it was assumed the presence of both on board was far from coincidental— yet no one claimed firm knowledge. The couple deflected curiosity.
    Drexler's behavior persuaded Hart that he should keep a careful distance from Greta. If he was going to rehabilitate his reputation the last thing he needed was a rivalry with the expedition's political liaison— or to get his mind wrapped around another woman. Yet curiosity nagged at him.
    One evening he took Drexler's intended seat next to hers in order to see what would happen. She looked at him curiously, but not without welcome. "Hello."
    Hart smiled. "It looks like you've gotten your sea legs." He nodded toward her full plate.
    "And you appear to be finding your way as well." She studied him.
    His throat suddenly felt dry, but he managed: "Well, it isn't that big a ship."
    "Yes. And yet, I haven't seen that much of you."
    "Everyone is busy and I'm trying not to interfere. You seem... occupied."
    She looked up at the dark circle of a porthole, the lift of her chin showing the white curve of her neck. "Not all the time," she said, trying to keep her tone light.
    They let that hang for a moment.
    "So, have you gotten things— the expedition, I mean— in proper order?" she finally asked.
    "Actually my contribution has been pretty minimal. I've done my best, but the clichés about German thoroughness appear to be true."
    "Really?" She smiled at that. "How does it feel to be surrounded by meticulous Germans?"
    "Depends on the German."
    "Of course." She sipped some water, studying him over the rim of the glass. "Well, I suspect we benefit from the perspective of an outsider. There's talk about you on the ship, you know. Your past. Why you're here. I have my own theory."
    "Which is?"
    "I think you're a deliberate adventurer. Undaunted by the prospect of death but afraid of life. Fond of going to remote, lonely places." She waited for his reaction.
    "Hmmm. That might describe anyone on this ship. Including you."
    She laughed. "That's the problem with Professor Freud's psychoanalysis. It's like a boomerang, coming back at the analyst."
    "Yes, but still, it's fun to form conjectures. I must admit, I've been mostly stymied in your case."
    She smiled. "How so?"
    "Well— " Hart paused, afraid he was venturing onto unsafe ground. "Your presence on this ship is... puzzling. A lone woman among so many men, willing to risk everything for some scientific data. One