'GANS ON ICE

by Lucille D'ecoupage

Farthing awoke with a start. His eyes ached, they had been clenched shut for hours. The room was the same as when he left... Or was it? He sat up straight and rubbed his eyes. Someone had placed a pillow under his head and a thick blanket lay over his shoulders. He was alone.

Standing up from the chart table, the sudden change in elevation put his head into a throbbing spin. What had he been dreaming of? The others were out on the ice, collecting snow for melting. They must have been as dry as he was. The fire was running low and the lead pipes that ran along the hull were cold. Farthing opened the door and peered into the darkness of the ship. It was eirily quiet. He called for a crewman but there was no reply. Slamming the door shut he went back to the window at the stern of the ship and scraped at the ice inside the pane. What he saw sickened him.

With the help of the telescope he could see two groups of men struggling with the ship's launch. Laden with material, it scraped it's way over the frozen surface of the ocean - bearing south.

A wave of nausia overtook him and he collapsed on a chair, unable to comprehend what had happened. He struggled back to his feet and pulled his boots and great coat on and tumbled out onto the ice. There he found only three officers, Caudal, Tarbin and Dickinson trudging back through the snow.

"What in God's name is going on here?" Farthing yelled into the howling wind. Dickinson dropped his load and rushed over to take him by the shoulders.

"They've gone Richard. They've gone."

He stood, unable to move. Crystals of ice had formed on the Doctor's beard, highlighting how guant he had become. Farthing looked deep into this stranger's eyes. "Gone? Gone where?"

"They have determined to follow the hunters... They have abandoned us Richard."