Hannah continues her scientific journey, this time in the dangerous environment of Greenland. Miles from anywhere with her Danish guardian, they are reliant on each other. Bonds of trust always end in better sex
"Better put that glove back on if you want to keep the fingers." Noah admonished the young woman in front of him, and he saw the words wounded her pride. He nodded back in acknowledgement. "Noah Hansen."
Hannah had cadged a lift that morning on the research vessel Sanna, from the Natural Resources Institute in Nuuk, the capital, but like most, she lacked experience in the dangers of the arctic environment. She was from Britain -- how could she, despite a couple of days orientation training? The research was important, but often visiting staff got carried away with the science and forgot safety.
Arctic safety was his job and Noah was good at it, having worked in Greenland and polar exploration for fifteen years. He was in his forties, though his greying hair and weathered skin made him look older. Officially, his role was a Support Technician, but more often he felt like a nanny, watching over his inexperienced charges.
This girl Hannah was no different. She was tall, though he towered over her, and he guessed she was maybe thirty. She didn't seem to have any tits to speak of, but a cute face. Blue eyes he noted, when she'd pulled those shades off and stuck out the bare hand to shake his.
'Good,' he thought. 'Lesson one. Listen to your ST first, then do your science.'
Hannah was disheartened. She'd spent the last two years building up her research for this trip, but hadn't lost sight of its physical challenges. To make sure she would cope, she'd worked on her distance running, swam three or four times a week in the university pool, and had never felt fitter.
Her Danish coordinators gave visiting scientists a three day course in polar survival in Nuuk, but impressed on them to be on their guard and stick close to their ST. She'd been warned about Noah. Clearly his professional scrutiny never took a break. As they would be spending a couple of weeks together in the field, Hannah hoped her inexperience wouldn't be a problem.
The small outpost of Atammik once relied on its fish processing plant, long since closed. The population quickly evaporated, leaving many of the houses boarded up or simply falling down, giving it the air of an abandoned gold rush town. The Research Institute set up a base when soft marine corals were discovered adjacent to important fishing grounds. There was an urgent need to gather information to shape decisions on fishing in the area.
Hannah slipped her glove back on, picked up her rucksack and followed on Noah's heels through the dirty ankle deep snow towards the centre's cabins. He shouldered the door open and held it for her as she struggled to fit herself, rucksack and her flight case past him.
"Help yourself to a hot drink. The toilets are in the next building but as soon as you're ready we can make a start. We're short of manpower. Normally we'd only travel as a three but..." Noah gestured into air with resignation and slumped back into a creaking office chair, patched with gaffer tape.
"Ok, Noah." Hannah smiled, helping herself to a coffee, getting over her first hesitation. "I presume you've seen the project outline? I'm here to collect marine samples from year-old sea ice. We'll need transport and some of the centre's core tubes, augers -- just the usual stuff, I expect. Is your role is limited to safety, or can you help with the sampling as well? I'd heard about the staffing problem back in Nuuk."
Noah nodded in response to her list. Again he noted that Hannah was quite slim, once she'd pulled off her parka. As she perched her sunglasses on her head, a memory briefly crossed his mind. He glanced once more at her eyes. She was busy talking about equipment and timescales, and hadn't seen his look. Noah dismissed the thought from his mind.
"I know you had three days at Nuuk, but let me stress again, Hannah. Safety first, work second. Who gave you the training, anyway?" He glanced up from the notes they had been studying.
"Lars Nielsen?" Hannah replied. Noah nodded.
"I know him, yes. Does he still warn people about me? I don't have a good reputation with the city folk. Nutcase Noah, I think I'm called." Noah scoffed as he began to pack expedition crates.
"Psycho Hansen's what he said," Hannah replied nonchalantly.
Noah laughed heartily, slapping Hannah's arm jovially.
"I like you, Hannah. You don't bullshit. I think we will get on together very well. Psycho Hansen, huh? Well, don't look me in the eyes or turn your back and you'll be fine. Come on -- lets go through the provision list and we can make a start."
Hannah was still trying to make him out and tuning her ear to his accent. He was a big bear of a man, with darting eyes that clearly missed nothing. His grumpy attitude wasn't going to be a problem -- she recognised the same professional attitude amongst the support staff back at her university. She could even do grumpy herself on occasions. He exuded an air of proprietary authority. She was confident he would be a good man to assist her work.
* * * * *
They set off on quad bikes, pulling trailers loaded with scientific equipment and the stores they needed for the week long field trip. Hannah hadn't driven a quad before but they weren't too difficult to control. The problem was the terrain, with icy patches, deep drifts of snow and rock, but she followed Noah's lead and after an hour they paused for a break.
"How are you getting on, Hannah? It looks like you've got the hang of it." Noah pulled off his hat as he spoke, then stretched to get a crick out of his back.
"It's great fun, Noah. I'm loving this. My hands are getting kinda cold though." Hannah wore a wide grin behind her visor.
"Let me see them," Noah asked, his attention immediately focused.
"No, they're fine. Just a bit exposed on the handles."
"So, please. Show them to me." Noah insisted. Hannah tugged off her mittens and liners underneath. Noah examined them, pressing her skin to check her capillary return. Turning them over, he rubbed his thumb into her palms thoughtfully.
"Long life line, Hannah, but no kids. Were you planning any?"
Hannah had to laugh. Here they were in a polar desert and this big hunk was reading her palms.
"I wasn't expecting this, Noah. Are you a qualified palmist or a mystic?" Hannah began to pull her gloves back on and looked up into his eyes.
Noah shrugged and stepped back to survey their surroundings, raising a hand towards the horizon, where white blended almost seamlessly with the pale steel sky.
"You know, Hannah. You should never guess a book by its cover, even if it's worn and scruffy like mine. You see? This is my heaven. You know on a clear evening when the aurora is singing and painting the skies, it makes you wonder about things. So yes, maybe mystic. There's still much you scientists can't explain. Take your helmet off a moment and tell me what you hear."
They stood in the cold silence with nipped noses and the chill of uncovered skin. Only the ticking of the cooling engines intruded. Noah was right, it was beautiful in its bleak emptiness. In some parts of the world you might anticipate another person walking or animals wandering, but not here. This place had nothing but rocks and snow for hundreds of miles.
"I can hear my tummy rumbling, Noah," Hannah finally admitted after sharing the silence with him.
"Good! Yes. I like this. I like a practical honest woman like you. I'm glad you didn't hear me farting then." Noah gave her a sidelong glance and a broad smile.
"Noah! You didn't -- I would have heard." Hannah laughed back.
