How to Surf a Hurricane, Chapter 2
I’m writing a heist novel in a solarpunk / hopeful climate scifi setting. Here’s the draft of the second chapter (here’s the first chapter if you missed it)— let me know what you think in the comments! I’ll be publishing a new chapter each week:
Chapter 2: Miki, The Installation
A massive two-rotor helicopter hovered on the edge of a mountain plateau, framed by the sun setting over a jagged landscape of rock and ice.
Under the intense wind of the rotors, a crew of four burly men grabbed fifty kilo crates and chucked them onto the ground like they were pillows.
When the last crate was unloaded, the fourth man yelled “All clear!”, then leapt onto the plateau.
“Godspeed, Miki!” the pilot shouted back as she pulled away from the mountainside.
Miki and the team watched as the helicopter 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[1]. 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 Alaska.
Everyone nodded confidently. It was a dangerous but well-rehearsed orchestra they’d done many times.
“What are you waiting for? Let’s move!”
Mission Log, Day 1 of 7: We’ve set up camp. Now the real work begins.
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.
“Good and bad news.” Base reported.
“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 beard.” He mumbled to himself.
Grabbing his shovel, he tunneled out of the tent and onto the powder-covered mountain.
As soon as they finished a Hab, they’d move out of the tents. 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 pale and bony, appearing as sharp as his tongue.
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[2] on him this time. This job’s complicated enough without him crashing.
“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 greying beard.
I can always count on him to think things through.
“Really?” Pedro perked up.
“Yeah, 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 and had a short conversation on the radio, then 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 just yet, 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 paused, then 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 — last thing we need is someone breaking an ankle. You hear me?”
“You got it, boss,” Pedro agreed.
“Affirmative,” Raj nodded.
“You can count on me,” Alex smiled.
Day 2 of 6: We finished and moved into the first Hab and are keeping with the accelerated schedule, but I’m worried about Pedro. He made a mistake under-torquing one of the ice anchors[3] last night. Thankfully I caught it, but we have no margin for error.
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 him three “Yessir’s” in response.
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 soundproofing, 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. Not enough to cause problems, all of our gear is rated for worse, but stay sharp. Also, Miki, your mom said that the fishing net broke again, she’s wondering when you’ll be home so that you can fix it.”
“Roger, thanks for the update. And tell her it’ll be two weeks, like always, but I put a spare net in the shed. Blizzard One out.” Click.
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.
Day 3: We’re officially behind. Base made a packing error and sent us the wrong panels. We were able to pivot to another task, but not without losing precious time. I’m trying to keep the team’s morale up, but it’s getting tense. I can see their elevated stress levels on my Heads Up Display.
“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… Sorry about that boss, I didn’t sleep great with the early start,” Pedro mumbled, half sassy, half apology.
Miki sighed, letting go of his frustration. “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 just get these Habs installed and get paid.” Raj chimed in, mediating 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 clearly 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.
Day 4: We’re off to a better start. Pedro was more focused, probably trying to make up for his mistake yesterday. And after the mistake with the tensioner going 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.
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.
Miki grimaced as he took his first bite of his rehydrated meal. It was supposed to be “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 as he wiggled a small pack of brown powder at him.
“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.
“It’s ok, 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 it’s kind — that’s supposed to fully cure it. No more risk of remission. But it’s really expensive.”
Miki nodded.
Pedro glanced at his watch then cut off the conversation, “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, then stood and donned his winter gear.
Miki shrugged at Raj, trying to apologize for Pedro.
Raj looked down at his now-empty spice bag and sighed, “Nope, he’s right, we need to keep moving.”
They donned their gear and met the helicopter outside. As they struggled to unload, the rotors blowing ice crystals blowing into their face, Miki kept an eye on 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 radio’d 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.
Day 5: I’m not looking forward to the intervention with Pedro afterwards, but thanks to Base, we now have enough Score to get through this job. Two days left to complete the largest structure, the lodge. Tight, but the team seems up to the challenge.
They stood inside the last of the small Habs. Alex flipped the breaker and the soft glow of LED strips faded on. A moment later, the quiet hum and warming breeze of the heat pump followed.
“Nice work with the electronics.” Miki complimented.
“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 snow storm. It’ll be strong enough to rip apart the lodge if the frame isn’t fully assembled in the next two hours.”
“Shit. We’ll get it done.” Click.
The crew looked at Miki. They heard everything, and they knew just as well as him that there was no way they could assemble the whole frame in two hours. The company record was 2:18, and that was inside of 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 grit his teeth as he held 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.
TWANG
Miki twisted to look at the other team.
Alex lay limp in the snow and Pedro leapt into the air dangerously close to the edge.
Without all of 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 made his way to the other side of the structure.
His progress was painfully slow. He leaned forward almost 45 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 a magnetic stainless steel alloy to make automated packing easier… It might just 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, then nodded.
Miki rolled off Pedro and crawled over to Alex, who was now half buried in 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.
“The good news: No internal bleeding. The bad news: Definitely a concussion. He should avoid stimulation for at least two days.” Pedro reported, after they’d hauled Alex inside and secured the last anchor. Pedro’s basic medical training was the closest thing they had to a doctor on the mountain. Anything serious would require a medevac.
“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 countered.
“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 stated firmly, trying to hide a wince from the noise of his voice.
“Ok.” Miki relented. “We’ve only got one day left, then we’re all going to rest like motherfuckers.”
They made their way back 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, it lifts them for us… like a kite.” Alex added, his voice sounding strained.
“Wait, you’re holding them by their lines? Alex, that doesn’t seem particularly — “ Base started.
The next few seconds seemed to happen in slow motion.
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 on the radio, he vomited in his helmet. His automatic reflex was to bend over and clasp his stomach — which involved letting go of the panel he was holding like a kite.
The panel caught the wind and sailed away from him — directly towards Raj.
Miki, as team leader, saw an alert on his HUD that Raj’s suit experienced a rapid acceleration event.
“Raj? You there? Everything ok?”
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.”
“Shitshitshit. 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 500 meters away and moving fast.”
Miki grabbed his head, heart pounding in his ears. Not again.
A moment later, Base added, “Ok, he’s slowed down, settling in around 700 meters away. Looking at the topographic map, he fell pretty far down the mountain. Shit.”
“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 he 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. Medevac team sees a break in the wind in two hours, they’ll meet you then.”
Miki grabbed his skis from the gear rack. He had never been professionally trained in skiing, but that wasn’t going to stop him.
As he rocketed down the treacherous slope, he repeated like a mantra what a coworker had taught him after work one day. “Plant. Hop. Twist. Plant. Hop. Twist.”
It wasn’t always enough. Even with his immense strength, he had a hard time making the fast turns on the steep slope.
Every few turns, he’d fall, his skis popping off and sliding away from him.
He yelled in frustration. It didn’t hurt to fall into the powder, 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. There was something black, 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. Was that… an arm sticking out of the snow?
Miki rushed over, digging out the body.
Raj was barely breathing and clearly freezing. Miki quickly deployed the emergency tent, hauled Raj inside and carefully warmed him up[4].
Day 6: Raj was banged up, bruised and had multiple broken bones, but the fresh coat of snow at the bottom had been just thick and soft enough to save him.
“Well, shit. I can’t believe Raj is ok. You’re a good guy, Miki.” Pedro remarked to Miki as he hopped into the hovering copter. He turned back towards the cliff. “You sure you don’t want to come down to Base to celebrate?”
“It’s ok. There are a few things I need to wrap up here before the clients arrive.” Miki replied, waving as the copter took off with the rest of the crew.
What a job, Miki thought as he surveyed the small ring of buildings they’d constructed.
Now the hard part: dealing with Mr. Petroff.
Footnotes:
- Habitats: Modularly-assembled buildings. Initially developed to quickly rebuild after hurricanes, they’re composed of modular LGS (light gauge steel) panels snapped together with puzzle-like grooves. To make them suitable for mountain use cases, Everest Co made several modifications. They composited a cold-rolled stainless steel alloy (initially developed for rockets) with closed-cell foam insulation to reduce weight, swapped in ultra-efficient fixtures from off-grid homesteaders to reduce water and electricity requirements, and made the individual parts small enough to be assembled by hand instead of crane.
- Score: A more powerful variant of Adderall that boosted energy and focus. While not addictive, users were known to be so focused that they missed important things around them.
- Anchors: To resist the wind, Habs were secured with anchors on each corner. For most jobs, they were simply anchored into the rock. For this job, they’d secured a special contract inside of a National Park (their forecast showed that this location would have the first snow of the season, a competitive advantage) on the condition that they left no trace. To comply, they were borrowing a technique from ice climbing: ice anchors. A suitably thick section of ice is located, then large aluminum ice screws are torqued in deep enough to support the necessary horizontal load. To save time, the screw is pre-attached to the frame with a long, adjustable line. Once all the anchors are torqued into the ice, the lines are tensioned in opposite pairs to avoid accidentally shifting the structure.
- Rewarming a hypothermia victim up too quickly, or starting with the limbs instead of the torso, can cause heart and lung failure.
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