Chapter Text
I awoke to the shrillness of my alarm in the pitch-black early morning, as I had grown used to, in Smeerenburg at the top of the world.
We were caught firmly in the grip of polar night.
Smeerenburg would not see another sunrise for many months.
After a breakfast of cod and cloudberries spread onto stale bread, I made my way out.
The settlement was quiet but for the distant churn of the whale-processing plants, and the sky was empty but for the scattering of stars not blocked out by the ever-present stinking smog. I turned away from the empty landing field; today was the day of the Icewalker’s departure.
