Under the Ice

Turning to see what Al Layman was referring to, Colter gazed over the bridge and watched as a single individual dressed in a heavy fur-skin parka, finished climbing out of the aft access way Without stopping to catch his breath, this stranger began to climb over the side of the Defiance. That done, he sat down and proceeded to use the rounded hull of the ship to slide down to the ice below. The moment he got to his feet, he turned to take one last look at the vessel from which he had just escaped. His glance centered on the exposed bridge. He seemed to realize at this point that he was being watched, and he meekly bowed in response before pivoting and beginning to quickly make his way over the ice pack.

The harsh buzzing sound of the intercom was followed by a breathless voice from below.

“Captain, it’s the Eskimo! He’s not in sickbay, and Pharmacist Mate Krommer thinks that he might be loose in the ship.”

Now knowing the identity of the party he had just been watching leave the Defiance, Matt Colter fought back laughter as he replied, “Tell the good pharmacist’s mate I’m afraid he has just lost a patient. Maybe Pills’ bedside manner needs improving, because our Eskimo friend just took off for home. And the way that he’s hauling ass, it seems that he can’t get there soon enough!”

The feel of solid ice beneath his feet was a joy to Ootah as the he scrambled up a steep hummock. Only when he reached this ridge’s summit did he dare to halt his rushed journey. Then, with his pained lungs heaving for breath, he hunched down and slowly turned to take one last look at the mammoth, black-skinned monster from which he had just escaped.

From his current vantage point, he could see that there were two such beasts extending out of the frozen water. Both were sleek and evil looking, and there was no doubt in his mind that these demons were the legions of Tornarsuk himself. One of these creatures had swallowed him whole, and had been about to carry him off to the land of the dead when the ancestors had once again interceded on his behalf. And by the grace of the Great Spirit, he had been allowed to crawl out of the beast’s belly to reenter the world of the living. This was a journey no mortal had ever returned from, and Ootah once more bowed in humble adoration because a great miracle had brought him back to the frozen land of the people.

With the muted Arctic dawn continuing to develop on the horizon, the Inuit gratefully turned for home.

Though this portion of the pack ice wasn’t familiar to him, that didn’t matter. For he was a hunter, and he would find his way back to his snow house just as the salmon returned each spring to the same spawning grounds.

As he scrambled down the far face of the ridge, his hand went instinctively to his neck. But the bone amulet was long gone, and with it the last vestige of his father. Though he hated to lose this treasure, somehow he knew Nakusiak would understand. Just as their shared dream was an omen of things to come, the amulet had guided him back to the land of the living. And now he had only one mission — to keep his heart pure and clean, so that the fiery evil destined to fall from the heavens would be contained and yet another dawn of peace would ascend over the land of the Inuit.