174 25 The van came to a stop, and someone slid open the door, but the driver shouted above the voices of the party-goers that she didn’t have room for another passenger. “Unless you’re in physical danger,” she said. “I need to ask you to either walk or wait for the next van.” Ignoring the driver, a number of hands reached out of the packed van and grabbed Alice, hauling her up onto a bed of laps. Someone tugged her feet inside and someone else slammed the door shut. The van groaned on down the hill toward Scott Base. This, Alice thought as she jostled along on the human nest, swallowed up in the drunken laughter, must be what fate feels like. “I’m going to my fate,” she said out loud because no one could hear her anyway. Her mother would like those words: my fate. When the van came to a stop someone managed to unplug himself from the interior and he turned and wrapped his arms around Alice’s waist. “Let go of her!” he shouted to the others in the van as he pulled, and she slid free, the release of her weight knocking them both to the ice. I’ve been born, Alice thought, and my mother is a van. The man was laughing and she found herself laughing, too. He helped her up, without looking at her, and joined the rest of the party guests who were crowding into the entrance of Scott Base. Alice stayed outside, listening to the ice creaking. Inside at the party, Jamie was undoubtedly chatting up some woman who was not only much prettier than she was but also much better at conversation. She had no idea why she was even thinking about him. He’d made no attempt to contact her since their day on the sea ice. If her life hadn’t depended on taking shelter, she would have abandoned this madcap party plan. But the climate forced her to open the door and enter the main building at Scott Base. Loud music and party chatter assaulted her. An avalanche of cheer. She tried to listen for Jamie’s voice, but of course hearing any particular voice would be impossible. There were dozens of people at the party. As panic tightened around her, the noise dimmed and then seemed to go completely silent. She felt as if the entire room was dark except for a spotlight on her. “Looking for someone?” asked a chubby man with pink skin and thin brown hair. Was it that obvious? “Yes. No.” “Wait here.” Alice did, wondering if she’d said Jamie’s name out loud, expecting the man to return with him. What would she say then? Maybe her mother had been right all along. Now that she’d left her, she wished she could take the lessons she’d shunned for so long: how to converse socially, which clothes to wear for which occasions, what tone of voice to use with men. The chubby man was back. He handed her a plastic cup full nearly to the brim with a pink drink. Little pieces of citrus pulp floated to the top. “Try this. Looks nasty but it’s our specialty.” He spoke with that jaunty New Zealand accent, much more mountain and sea in it than a British accent. Alice took a sip. It tasted like vodka laced with lemonade. She took a few more swallows. Then the man touched her elbow and led her through the maze of rooms at Scott Base until they were in the small library, tucked on a top floor, with a view out over the sea ice. He gestured toward one of the cushioned benches and Alice sat. “You okay? “I’m not the kind of person who goes to parties much.” 175 [54.144.81.21] Project MUSE (2024-03-28 12:54 GMT) “You picked a doozy of a one for experimenting.” When Alice didn’t answer he asked, “Been here before? Scott Base?” “Only briefly.” This would be a good time to ask the man if he knew Jamie. “I always think it’s good to have a bailout room at a party. So I thought you’d like to see the library. Guess I’ll go back to the party.” “I’ll come too.” He looked pleased. “I think I need my drink freshened,” she said, using her mother’s expression, as if having another...