How to Surf a Hurricane, Chapter 2
I’m writing a heist novel in a solarpunk / hopeful climate scifi setting. Here’s the second chapter (here’s the first chapter if you missed it):
Miki: The Installation
A massive two-rotor helicopter flew over the jagged Alaskan landscape of rock and ice, framed by the setting sun.
Miki sat in the co-pilot’s seat, taking it all in. The helicopter crested a ridge, revealing a small plateau amongst the cliffs and spires. He spoke over the radio, fighting the noise, “There she is. That’s where we’re building. Prepare to disembark.”
The helicopter edged closer and closer. A gust of wind almost slammed them into the rock, and Miki felt his massive biceps tense.
“This is as close as I can get,” the pilot said over the radio.
Under the intense wind of the rotors, Miki and his crew of three burly men grabbed fifty-kilo crates and effortlessly chucked them out the sliding door and onto the ground.
When the last crate was unloaded, Miki yelled to the cockpit, “All clear!”
“Godspeed, Miki!” the pilot shouted back.
They leaped onto the plateau, slapping each other on the back.
Miki and the team watched as the helicopter pulled away from the mountainside and vanished into the distance.
They stood, four figures, black silhouettes of insulated jumpsuits against white clouds, their pile of gear humbled by the immensity of the peaks surrounding them.
As the first snow of the season drifted down, Miki began, “Alright, team, circle up. We have one week to install these five Habitats. We set up camp tonight and start on the Habs first thing in the morning. Remember, safety first.”
It was his responsibility to make sure everything went according to plan. He didn’t want a repeat of the pipeline collapse. Watching one of his teammates be crushed to death by a falling section of oil pipe still haunted him. They gave him a leadership award for saving the rest of his crew, but he’d still left oil to work in construction. Not sure this is much safer, though.
The sun winked out behind a ridge, momentarily casting the clouds in otherworldly light. His heart skipped a beat. But it’s worth it for the views.
Darkness began to descend, and he switched back into work mode. “What are you all waiting for? Let’s move!”
Miki’s smartwatch buzzed. He opened his eyes, shook off the sleep, and answered on the third buzz.
“This is Blizzard One. What’s up, Base?” he spoke into his watch. They rotated operators every 8 hours, so it was protocol to refer to them all as Base, but he’d been on the job long enough to know all of them by heart.
“Good and bad news,” replied a middle-aged female voice with a thick South African accent.
Freya. That’s good, she won’t sugarcoat it. “What’s the bad?”
“Storm’s coming in faster than expected.”
“And good?”
“The client is willing to pay extra for fresh snow. What would it take to finish a day early?”
“Well, hell. That’s some news. Let me wake the team and get back to you.” He smacked his watch, ending the transmission with a click.
Miki rolled out of his sleeping bag and donned layers of heavy clothing with the quick and efficient practice of many years. He opened his cramped, dark tent and was greeted by a wall of snow.
“Faster than expected, my ass,” he grumbled to himself.
Grabbing his shovel, he tunneled out of the tent and onto the powder-covered mountain.
They’d move out of the tents as soon as they finished a Hab. Miki couldn’t wait.
“Alex! Pedro! Raj! Get out here!” he yelled at the three white mounds in front of him.
“What is it, boss?” Pedro responded, his voice muffled by the snow.
“We’ve got complications and a potential payday.”
The crew was dressed and out in record time. They stood in the snowy darkness, headlamps on, as Miki got them up to speed.
“Here’s the deal. As I’m sure you noticed from the snow, the storm’s ahead of schedule. But we can negotiate a bonus if we finish a day early. If we’re going to do it, we need to be all in. What do you say?”
“Not sure about y’all, but I’m up for a challenge.” Alex smirked, crossing his arms. He was as pale as the snow and had close-cropped auburn hair.
Miki mentally shook his head. Typical Alex, pushes himself but pisses off everyone else.
Pedro paused for a moment, thinking. “I’d be willing to do it for pay and a half.” He was smooth-skinned and heavyset, giving him a baby-like appearance.
I hope he doesn’t have any Score on him this time. I know he uses it to boost his energy, but I can’t afford to have him go through a withdrawal up here.
“I could use the extra money too. I almost have enough saved up to buy a house for my parents. But I think we can negotiate for double pay,” Raj countered. He was the oldest of the group, and it showed in his wrinkled face and graying beard.
I can always count on him to think things through.
“Really?” Pedro perked up.
“Absolutely. Even doubling our wages isn’t going to make much of a difference to our clients.”
“Hell yeah! Let’s do it!” Alex shouted.
Miki nodded. “Alright then, we’ve decided. I’ll let Base know we’re willing to do it for double pay. Also, Alex, watch the noise. We don’t want to trigger an avalanche with a fresh layer this thick.”
He stepped away, had a short conversation on the radio, and came back with a grin. “Raj, you devil, the client took it for double.”
This time, they celebrated quietly with pumped fists.
“Don’t get too excited. We still have to do it. I’ll have Base speed up the lifts, and we’ll have to extend shifts by two hours,” Miki ordered. He looked at Alex. “Doesn’t sound like much now, but you’ll be begging for mercy by the end. Just don’t do anything stupid — the last thing we need is someone breaking an ankle. You hear me?”
“You got it, boss,” Pedro replied with a thumbs up.
“Affirmative.” Raj nodded, tapping his temple.
Alex crossed his arms. “You can count on me.”
Miki surveyed his team with a sense of satisfaction. They were hard-working guys who knew the Alaskan mountains like the backs of their hands. But paydays like this didn’t come around often, and this one didn’t show up a moment too soon. It could be life-changing if they execute it properly.
Miki’s watch buzzed him awake. The alarm was two hours earlier than usual. They had to find the extra shift time somewhere, and that somewhere was sleep.
“This calls for double coffee rations,” he muttered to himself.
“Alex! Pedro! Raj! You up yet?” he shouted from his bunk in the Hab, earning three “Yes, sir!” responses. They’d moved into the first Hab as soon as they’d assembled it.
He observed Pedro get out of his bunk a little slower than the others. He’d made a mistake under-torquing one of the ice anchors last night. Thankfully I caught it, but we have no margin for error. These damn ice anchors are so much harder to work with than our usual rock anchors, why’d HQ have to do a deal in a National Park? He rolled his eyes. Oh right. First snow of the season. Amazing what this company will do for money.
It was hard to believe they’d assembled the Hab in a single day, but Everest Co’s modular panel design was as comfortable as it was fast to install. It had climate control, multiple layers of closed-cell foam insulation, and a massive sapphire window overlooking the valley below. It was easy to forget how harsh the weather was outside.
He called Base on his watch. “Blizzard One to Base, any updates this morning?”
“Hey, Blizzard One. I see you’re up early too.” They didn’t sound happy. “The wind is picking up more than our model forecast but not enough to cause problems. All of our gear is rated for worse, but stay sharp. Also, Miki, your mom said your dad is getting worse.”
“Roger, thanks for the update. And tell her… I’ll be home soon. Blizzard One out.” Click. Thinking of his dad caused his throat to tighten. Keep it together, Miki. As dad would say, your crew needs you. You’re right, dad. We’ve got weather incoming, now’s not the time to be weak.
Miki was unfazed by dangerous and unpredictable weather. He’d grown up in Alaska and worked on oil rigs through some of the harshest winters on Earth. In the end, it wasn’t the storms that got him but the melting permafrost. After working on rigs and pipelines for eight years, the Great Alaskan Pipeline Collapse of 2035 killed one of his team members — and the Alaskan oil industry.
As he watched the flame on his Jetboil heat his Insta-Brew, he thought, You can trust the cold — it’s the heat you have to worry about.
“Hey, Pedro, toss me the tensioner when you’re done,” Miki shouted, ankle-deep in snow.
Pedro grunted in response and threw the tensioner in Miki’s direction — missing his outstretched arms by a full meter. Miki watched in horror as it careened over the cliff.
“Pedro, what the fuck was that? Weren’t you an all-star pitcher?” Miki barked.
“Yeah, I was…” Pedro mumbled. “Sorry about that, boss. I didn’t sleep great with the early start.”
Miki sighed. He saw Pedro’s stress levels spike on his heads up display. Calm down, Miki. The more stressed he gets, the worse he’ll perform. “We’ll have Base send another one. Alex, can you help me hammer in these panels while we wait?”
“Sure thing, boss. You can count on me.”
Miki winced as Alex pushed past Pedro. He felt Pedro glaring at Alex, even if he couldn’t see it under their snow goggles.
“Calm down, you two. Let’s get these Habs installed and get paid,” Raj said from the other side of the Hab.
“Oh, shut up, Raj. We know your ex-lawyer ass is just in this for the money,” Alex replied, trying to make a joke of it but failing.
“Hey, not my fault artificial intelligence made my degree useless!” Raj bit back.
“See, I thought lawyers were supposed to be smart. Why’d you go into a field that was getting automated?” Alex challenged.
Pedro scoffed. “Sheesh, Alex. For someone who keeps getting fired for starting fights, you think you’d try and keep your head down more.”
Miki looked around at his team. Great, three more days of this. At this rate, they’re going to murder each other before the storm even gets here.
They crowded around a small table in the Hab for lunch, sweaty from the morning’s work. They were so hot that they left the door open, occasional flurries of snow gusting in as they ate.
Things are looking up, Miki thought. Pedro is more focused, probably trying to make up for his mistake yesterday. And after the tensioner accidentally went airborne, we actually figured out a tool-free way to tension the lines. Should earn us some time and some praise from Base when we’re back.
Miki grimaced as he took his first bite of his rehydrated meal. He double-checked the packaging — it said “stir-fried sesame vegetables with fried rice,” but it tasted like…nothing.
“The Base food sucks, doesn’t it? Good thing I have a secret.” Raj winked at Miki while wiggling a small pack of brown powder.
“Is that… What drug is that?” Pedro asked, confused and intrigued.
“It’s not a drug. It’s my family’s secret spice blend. Here, want to try some?” Raj offered.
Everyone excitedly offered him their metal bowls. He sprinkled each with the spices.
Miki took a sniff and then a bite, chewing thoughtfully. “Well, damned if this doesn’t taste like biryani now. Raj, you’re a genius! You should sell this stuff!”
“Ah, I could never do that. It’s been in my family for generations. But I’m happy to share it with you.”
“Speaking of family,” Alex said between bites, “Raj, you’re in this to buy a house for your parents. Miki, what’re you in this for?”
Miki frowned and looked at his bowl, throat tightening again. I can’t let them see.
“It’s okay, Miki,” Raj answered softly, putting his hand on Miki’s shoulder. “His dad has been fighting cancer for many years. There’s an experimental procedure — the first of its kind — that’s supposed to fully cure it. No more risk of remission. But it’s really expensive.”
Miki nodded, fidgeting with his fork.
Pedro glanced at his watch. “Well, shit, I’d love to stay and chat, but there’s work to do.” He unceremoniously scarfed down the rest in two massive bites, stood, and donned his winter gear.
Grateful for the distraction, Miki nodded. “He’s right. We need to keep moving.”
Raj looked down at his now-empty spice bag and sighed. He stood, resting his hand on Miki’s shoulder for a moment before donning his gear.
As they continued to unpack, Miki watched Pedro. Something wasn’t quite right — it wasn’t like him to rush a delicious meal.
And then it clicked.
Shit.
Pedro was on Score.
Dammit. I told him to stop using on the job. I know he’s trying his best and how important this job is to him, but I keep telling him he’s good enough without it.
Thinking on his feet, Miki radioed Base. “Hey, Base, can you include extra electrolytes on the next shipment? We’re getting pretty thirsty up here.” Click.
This was a private code between them to send up some Score. This wasn’t the first time Miki had dealt with this, and he knew that the only thing more dangerous than using it on the job was running out before they were off the mountain.
They stood inside the last of the small Habs. Alex flipped the breaker, and the soft glow of recessed LEDs brightened the room. A moment later, the quiet hum and warming breeze of the heat pump followed.
“Nice work with the electronics,” Miki said.
“Eh, they’re a piece of cake once you get the hang of them.” Alex shrugged.
Click. “Hey, Miki, bad news. Weather team called. A wind front is developing ahead of the main snowstorm. It’s not record-breaking, but it’ll still be strong enough to rip apart the lodge if the frame isn’t finished in the next two hours.”
“Shit. We’ll get it done.” Click.
The crew looked at Miki. They had heard everything and knew they could not assemble the whole frame in two hours. The company record was 2:18, and that was inside a climate-controlled warehouse.
“You heard her. The weather’s coming in. There’s no time to waste,” Miki ordered, trying to hide the panic in his voice with a layer of assertive calm. He flipped down his visor, and the others followed.
They hauled ass. Two hours and ten minutes later, the frame was almost up — but the wind storm had also arrived. Gusts of over 120 km/h were buffeting the frame and threatening to pull out the incomplete anchors.
Miki gritted his teeth, holding the final line taunt while Raj tensioned it. Alex and Pedro were doing the same on the opposite side of the structure.
Once the anchors were in, the frame would be stable enough to withstand the storm.
The frame shook.
A sharp metallic twang, like a guitar string snapping, came from the other side.
Miki twisted to look.
Alex dropped limp in the snow, and Pedro leaped into the air, dangerously close to the edge.
Without all the anchors tensioned, a gust had been strong enough to pull out one of the installed anchors.
Now, Pedro, laser-focused on finishing the job, was trying to grab the anchor line that was sailing loose in the wind.
“Pedro! Alex! You there?” Miki called over the team-wide radio.
Silence.
Shit.
“Raj, can you finish this anchor solo?”
Raj paused for a moment, evaluating.
“I think so. Pedro and Alex need help, and we can’t risk the frame collapsing. I’ll cover this.”
Miki nodded and trudged to the other side of the structure.
His progress was painfully slow. He leaned forward almost forty-five degrees against the wind as he plodded one foot in front of the other in waist-deep snow. He watched in terror each time Pedro took a leap to try and catch the anchor.
Miki thought on his feet. The anchors’ top loops were made of magnetic stainless steel alloy to facilitate automated packing. It might work, Miki prayed.
When he got close enough, Miki grabbed Pedro and tackled him into the snow. Before Pedro had a chance to fight back, he flipped his visor up and yelled at Pedro, “Stop!”
Pedro froze, shocked out of his focus.
“Use your goddamn magnet!” Miki ordered, pulling Pedro’s magnet rod off his belt and thrusting it into his hands.
Pedro looked at the tool for a moment and nodded.
Miki rolled off Pedro and crawled over to Alex, who was now half-buried in the snow. There was a massive crack in his helmet where the anchor must have hit him.
“Alex! Can you hear me!” Miki pressed their helmets together and shouted over the roar of the wind.
He flipped open Alex’s visor and saw his eyes flutter open groggily.
Shit, possible head trauma.
“Hey, boss, got this side secured. Need help over there?” Raj’s voice came over the radio like an angel from heaven.
“Thank God. Alex has a head wound. Can you help me move him to Hab 1?”
“Roger, on my way over.” Click.
They hauled Alex inside and secured the last anchor, then returned to get Pedro’s assessment. his basic medical training was the closest thing they had to a doctor on the mountain. Anything serious would require a medevac.
“The good news is there’s no internal bleeding. Unfortunately, he has a concussion and should avoid stimulation for at least two days,” Pedro reported.
“Shit.” Miki stroked his unkempt beard, trying to figure out how they could adapt.
“Don’t worry, boss. I can do one more day,” Alex said.
“I really wouldn’t recommend that, Alex. Not taking time to recover could lead to permanent damage,” Pedro warned.
“Look, we gotta get this job done. I’m not letting you down. Then I’ll rest like a motherfucker,” he replied, wincing from the noise of his voice.
“Okay,” Miki relented. “We’ve only got one day left, then we’re all going to rest like motherfuckers.”
They stepped out of the Hab and into the punishing wind. The incomplete lodge was clearly struggling. Even through their helmets, they heard the wind plucking the taunt lines like haunted violins.
“Alright, let’s get the panels installed without any more incidents. At least the storm isn’t getting worse. Pedro and I will take the wall panels. Raj and Alex, roof panels.”
“We might be the first people crazy enough to try building one of these damn Habs in a hurricane. Who knows, maybe we’ll get a world record?” Raj joked on the radio, trying to lighten the mood.
Base replied, “Actually, HQ just confirmed. You are the first people to try it. No promises about a world record, though, since it’s all proprietary. How’s it going out there?”
“The panels going with the wind are easy. The wind pushes them into place. But going against the wind is a real bitch.” Pedro grunted as he and Miki struggled to lock another panel into place.
“The top panels aren’t too bad either. The wind’s so strong that it lifts them for us… like a kite,” Alex added, sounding strained.
“Wait, you’re holding them by their lines? Alex, that doesn’t seem particularly — ” Base started.
The manual exertion had been making Alex queasy after his concussion, but he had been trying to downplay it. Finally, it was too much. As Base chastised him, he vomited in his helmet. He bent over to clasp his stomach, letting go of his panel.
The panel caught the wind and sailed away from him — directly toward Raj.
Miki, as team leader, saw an alert on his HUD that Raj’s suit experienced a rapid acceleration event.
“What was that noise? Raj? You there? Everything okay?”
Silence.
“Shit. Pedro, hold this.” Miki handed his panel to Pedro. “Alex, where’s Raj?”
“Uhhh. I don’t feel so great, boss. I just threw up in my helmet. I can’t see anything.”
“Shit, shit, shit. Pedro, as soon as you’re done with that panel, help Alex down. I’m going to help Raj,” he ordered.
Miki pulled up the live map of the area on his HUD. Raj wasn’t on it. “Base, I don’t know where Raj is. Can you give me his position?”
There was a pause.
“Uh, something seems to be wrong with the system. It says he’s five hundred meters away and moving fast.”
Miki grabbed his head, heart pounding in his ears. Not again.
A moment later, Base added, “Okay, he’s slowed down, settling in around seven hundred meters away.” A worried pause. “Looking at the topographic map, he fell pretty far down the mountain.”
“Goddammit!” Miki cursed. “I’m going after him. Base, send in the medevac to his location.”
“In this storm? Are you sure?”
“He’s on my crew and needs help, so I’m going to help him.” Miki’s firm response gave no room for rebuttal. “Base, give me your best guess at a viable ski route to Raj’s location, and make it fast.”
A convoluted line popped up on his HUD’s map.
“Godspeed, Miki. The Medevac team sees a break in the wind in two hours. They’ll meet you then.”
Miki grabbed his skis from the gear rack. It was a dangerous backcountry route, and he had never been professionally trained in skiing, but that wasn’t going to stop him.
As he rocketed down the treacherous slope, he chanted what a coworker had taught him after work. “Plant. Hop. Twist. Plant. Hop. Twist.” His muscles bulged and strained with each fast turn on the steep slope.
It wasn’t always enough.
Every few turns, he’d fall, skis popping off and sliding away from him.
He yelled in frustration. Falling into the powder didn’t hurt, but he knew that every second he wasted put Raj’s life further at risk.
He crawled over to his skis, got back up, and did it again.
Miki arrived at Raj’s location, exhausted, battered, and heart pounding. He wiped off his visor to get a better look. Something black was there, but it was too small to be a person.
Raj’s helmet. But where is the rest of him?
He saw something out of the corner of his eye. Is that…an arm?
Miki rushed over, digging out the body. Raj was barely breathing and covered in frost.
He deployed the emergency tent and hauled him inside. He called back base. “I found him. Hypothermic. Proceeding with first aid. Over.” He didn’t wait for a response. He stripped off Raj’s wet clothing and wrapped him in the emergency blanket, rubbing his chest to create more warmth. His hands were shaking, part from adrenaline, part from the fear of losing another teammate. “Stay with me, Raj,” he muttered.
Miki flew with Raj back to the main base and nervously waited while the doctor inspected him. Now, he sat in silence as the copter flew back to the camp to pick up the crew.
In just a few days, the landscape had completely transformed from the harsh brown lines of rocky spires to a fluffy blanket of white, exactly as the forecast had predicted.
They crested the final ridge… and Miki couldn’t believe his eyes. All of the habs were fully assembled. He’d been so caught up in rescuing Raj that he’d pushed the work out of his mind. But his team had done it, they’d carried through without him. He felt his eyes grow moist.
Pedro and Alex stood in the clearing, bags packed, waving as the copter approached.
Miki jumped out of the sliding door and shook their hands. “Thank you for finishing without me.”
“Of course,” Alex said with a shrug. “We had a job to do.”
“How is he?” Pedro asked, expression unreadable behind his helmet.
He gave a sigh of relief that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in. “He’ll be okay. Multiple broken bones, but we got to him before he froze.”
“You got to him before he froze.” Pedro slapped him on the back. “You’re a good guy, Miki. Coming back with us to celebrate? We’re beat up, but this is one hell of a paycheck.”
He shook his head. “Can’t, gotta stay for a final inspection. But chug one for me, y’all earned it.” He helped them load their bags and waved as the copter disappeared into the white.
What a job, Miki thought as he surveyed the small ring of buildings.
Now, the hard part: dealing with Mr. Petroff.
Read Chapter 3
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