The Moulin

     “So, you’re sure about this being the place?” The Krawk asked. Although his voice was little more than a muffle behind his thick scarf and overstuffed winter jacket.

     The Poogle looked back at him with a smile. “Yes, these are the coordinates they said to meet them at. I’m sure they’ll be along shortly.”

     The Krawk glanced off across the horizon, possibly thinking the same things Alfie had just been thinking. Then he shivered and shook his head.

     “You do know you can make ice at home, right?”

     Alfie laughed, “I am aware. I think an ice cube and an iceberg are a little different though.”

     “Not that different,” The Krawk muttered. “I just don’t see why any pet would want to spend their time out here. Nothing to even look at. Just white, white, and more white. Think they’d go stir crazy.”

     “It’s important research,” Alfie defended. “I understand your thinking though, but it is important research.”

     “Hmm,” The Krawk hummed to himself, not sounding too convinced. Then he said, “I spy with my little eye something that is...not white! Is that your friend?”

     He pointed off in the distance and Alfie followed his claw to see something shooting over the ice and headed straight towards them. He smiled, “I think so.”

     It took another minute or so before any clearly defined features could be determined, but Alfie was sure as soon as he saw the flash of bright orange. The winter suit of one of the northern scientists was hard to miss in a place like this.

     Coming even closer Alfie could see that it was a Ruki, his exoskeleton a shadowy black. Alfie recognized the scientist as one of the men working with his father. In fact, he was sure they had met before. But that had been years ago and he had been just a baby.

     “Alfonzo!” The Ruki said as he sprung over the last slope before kicking up a bunch of powdered snow at their feet. “Good to see you my young lad. Sad tidings, but good to see you all the same.”

     The pet walked forward on four feet, each strapped to a ski, and extended a hooked pincer in greeting. Alfie took it and gave him a strong shake, smiling up at the friendly eyes peering out from behind a set of snow goggles.

     “Doctor Swift,” Alfie said, “Pleasure’s all mine.”

     The Ruki scoffed, “Doctor! No titles here lad. The snow cares not for titles, and I will tell you, the cold doesn’t care for my doctorate as much as one might hope. I will freeze either way!”

     “And so will I, very shortly,” The Krawk butted in. He turned to Alfie, “You’re in good hands then? Am I free to head out?”

     Alfie nodded his consent and wished the Krawk farewell. Then, almost too quickly, the hot air balloon was back up and floating away towards civilization.

     “And there goes your escape,” The Ruki joked, though it was barely a joke and more of an observation. It was Alfie’s escape, floating away into the distance. He was here now, and there would be no leaving anytime soon.

     ----

     Dr.Swift lent Alfie a pair of his skis, stating he could travel just as well on two claws as he could four, and little less than an hour later the two pets were coming up on a series of blue globes embedded in the snow. Alfie recognized the lab as soon as he saw it. He still held a picture in his wallet of his father standing before those same globes with a massive smile on her face and his arms folded triumphantly. This was the lab his father had founded, the furthest north any pet had dared to go.

     As a child Alfie had been proud of his father’s accomplishments, even if it meant seeing him so rarely. As an adult though, Alfie could see that the lab was only a small fraction of his father’s real work. Sure, a record-holding lab was all well and good, but what good was a lab which could not produce anything?

     “Once again, I am sorry about your father,” Swift said as they came to a stop before the front door of the lab. He turned to Alfie, plucked his goggles from over his eyes, and gave the Poogle a sad sort of smile. “I am so glad you were willing to come up here though. It’s strange, but I see so much of your father in you it almost feels like he’s still here.”

     “Well, I’m very glad you were willing to have me,” Alfie responded.

     Swift laughed, “Of course, a Vanderbom is always welcome here. Especially the only son of The Vanderbom. Now let us get inside before we freeze solid.”

     Dr.Swift showed Alfie into the lab, and a lab it was. Everything was utilitarian. Not that Alfie was surprised by this. He understood this was a research laboratory, not a holiday cabin.

     “Research, research, research, kitchen, bedrooms, bathroom.” Dr.Swift rhymed off as he pointed around the room and to the three closed doors set into the back wall. “And that’s about it!”

     “Very humble living,” Alfie said.

     “Well, I suppose so,” Swift said. “Though I have lived in smaller. Did you want something to eat? I can fetch us a snack, if you like.”

     “I would like that,” Alfie said, “I haven’t eaten all day.”

     The two stepped into the cramped kitchen and Swift went about making them something to eat while Alfie took a seat and stared into the office absentmindedly.

     “So,” Swift spoke over his shoulder as he dished leftovers onto a plate. “What did, exactly, bring you out here? I’ll admit there isn’t much in the way of Petpets if you’re looking for something to study.”

     “I’m aware,” Alfie said, spinning a fork around in his paw. “I didn’t come here for research. I came looking for dad.”

     The movement out of the corner of Alfie’s eye stopped, as did the clatter of plates as Dr.Swift paused. Alfie didn’t bother looking up at him. He already knew the look on the older Ruki’s face.

     “There’s…nothing left to look for.” Swift said. “Is that really why you came up here?”

     “How is there nothing to look for?” Alfie countered. “You said he ‘up and disappeared.’ Pets don’t do that, Doctor. I thought you knew that.”

     The Ruki turned and Alfie decided to face him. The older scientist didn’t look combative though, just tired. He leaned his pincers against the counter and sighed, shaking his head.

     “I am fully aware of that, lad.” Dr. Swift said softly. “You think I haven’t done my own looking? You think I didn’t get out there the very second I felt something was wrong? I’ve looked up and down the cliff of this berg for days. I checked everywhere. I stayed out there for so long that when I got back I forgot what warmth felt like. Your father is gone. No pet can survive out there as long as he’s been gone. There is nothing to find.”

     Alfie didn’t accept it though. He could feel a fire in his chest even as Dr. Swift spoke. That fire had driven him from his cosy study in Neopia, up north, across the strait, and now into one of the coldest and most desolate places in the world. He stood, though he had nowhere to go.

     “I don’t care. I intend to look anyway. I will find something. There must be something. My father didn’t just wander out the back door and disappear into the night. He was a genius; he knew what he was doing. He knew this land better than anyone, including you, and I won’t accept anything less than a full answer.”

     Swift stared at him sharply and laughed. “What are you going to do then? Wander around in a snow drift? Maybe fall down a crevasse and never be seen again?”

     “I’ll start at the beginning. Where my father was last seen. I’ll go from there.”

     Swift sighed again, pulled his leftovers to his chest and stabbed violently at the pasta in the dish. “Of course. Just like your father.”

     “So, tell me, where did you see him last?”

     “You’re not going out there,” Swift said, and Alfie’s fur prickled for a moment.

     “Not on your own, at least,” He continued, and he smiled at Alfie. “And not right now. You’ll eat something first. I won’t take you out while you’re starving, you’ll just freeze a little faster.”

     He offered Alfie a plate of grey noodles and the Poogle accepted them begrudgingly. He retook his seat and started working through the bland meal. Dr. Swift stood over him as he ate like his mother would.

     As he ate, he heard the wind outside howling around the lab’s dome. The wind running for miles uninterrupted before slamming into their little shelter with a crash and a shake of the walls. Alfie looked up, worried at the way the plates and cups clattered where they sat. Swift didn’t even flinch though, his head tilted to the side and his eyes lost in thought.

     The wind seemed to sing as it brushed across the surface of their cold, metal chamber. Alfie listened, surprised at the harmony of the wailing sounds as they curved around them on all sides. It was strangely soothing, and possibly explained part of the reason why his father had loved it here in the first place.

     Alfie finished the plate and pushed it aside. “Alright, I’m done. Now let’s get going. Where was the last place you saw my father?”

     The Ruki’s eyes refocused and he glanced down at Alfie, a curious smile on her face. He told him.

     “The Moulin.”

     ----

     The wind whipped around the Poogle as he staggered forward through the snow. Up ahead he could see multiple rods sticking up through the ice, some with small alert flags flapping wildly in the wind. Ahead, Dr. Swift moved with a comfortability you only got from spending months out here. As they came near the excavation site the Ruki pointed.

     “Over there,” He called above the wind. “Orange flag, three o’clock. That’s where we’re taking core samples.”

     Alfie came up beside him, pulling his hood tighter around his head. Swift looked down at him, “We would take turns getting up to test the core. Your father was out here doing just that the last time we saw him.”

     “Were you with him?” Alfie called back, finding his voice ripped from his mouth by the violent winds.

     Swift shook his head. “I was at the lab,” He pointed back the way they had come. In the distance, you could see the small shape of the lab, and its alert light shining out towards them through the gathering darkness. “I saw him leave, we spoke, and he said he’d be back shortly. Core sampling doesn’t take that long, usually.”

     “Usually?”

     Swift shrugged. “Sometimes the ice shifts. Occasionally it can be a bit of a Turmaculus to move.”

     “And then?”

     Swift motioned for him to pause, “Follow me, we’ll get out of this wind.”

     He moved forward and Alfie followed close behind. As night was beginning to settle the feeling of the frozen landscape was shifting from endless open space to tight claustrophobia somehow. It seemed as if the world was shrinking in on itself as the darkness crept closer.

     Swift forced them forward, the snowdrift giving way at last to solid, rough ice. They were on the ice sheet proper now, and Alfie could only watch as Swift led him out and around another metal rod stuck through the ice. Alfie gripped the rod and paused. Here the ice dropped off into a dip which was invisible until it was almost too late. Without the rod, you could easily walk right off and bust your head on the hard ice below.

     An incline had been cut in the ice though, and Swift was travelling down into it. Alfie followed close behind, holding tight to the ropes anchored to the wall of ice on his left to use as a railing. Eventually, the roar of wind in his ears faded, though the blistering cold remained. Still, the song of the icy wind could be heard. Even clearer maybe, Alfie thought.

     Swift breathed heavily as he pressed his back to the ice wall. Even the old Ruki had a hard time keeping up in this wind. Alfie was beginning to understand why he had said his father was lost. He couldn’t imagine spending a night out here on the ice let alone days, or weeks.

     “There’s nothing to find,” Swift repeated. “If you must, we’ll come out tomorrow morning. I can show you the work we did here, and you can look to your heart's content. The weather should pass by morning.”

     “Right,” Alfie stuttered. The cold he could feel burying not just into his fur, but into his skin, under it, into his very core. The cold sharp pain gave way to numb indifference.

     “I’ll show you the reason our camp is set here though. Might as well get a look at it before we head back,” Swift continued. He pointed down, and Alfie saw that the little trench in the ice was more than a hiding spot, it was a path leading down and out of sight.

     “What do you mean?”

     “The Moulin.” Swift said, as if that explained everything. He started forward and Alfie saw no choice but to follow.

     As they moved the singing of the wind grew louder still, until it seemed to ring in the Poogle’s ears. The tunnel of slick ice almost works as a microphone to enhance the sounds. Alfie could barely believe the ice was holding up at all. He felt it should have been shaken apart at this point.

     As they rounded the corner together Alfie got his first view of what had been making the noise. It wasn’t the wind, but a mixture of ice, water, and air, combining to make a wonderful mournful wail.

     Before them was a thick chain stuck deep in the ice to keep them from getting any closer. Beyond that chain, the ice took a sharp decline into a hole which, from here, looked like it had no bottom. On the other side of the hole was a running flow of ice water washing away down the pit, buffering the walls to a smooth crystal shine. The shape of the ice so natural no paw could have carved it, only Mother Nature herself could have created such a sight.

     “The Moulin,” Swift motioned. “A strange phenomenon your father was deeply interested in.”

     “It’s…like a waterfall?”

     “In a way, yes,” Swift explained. “This has no doubt been building for hundreds of years. Melting ice and snow more than likely found their way into a crevasse in the ice, and over time have chipped it away until you have what we see here. Your father did measurements on it to see just how deep it went but…we haven’t hit the bottom yet. It may just go all the way through at this point.”

     Alfie leaned against the cold chain fence separating him from the stunning creation. “It’s very loud.”

     Swift laughed, “Exceptionally so. You may have your father’s ears. He said he could hear it from back at camp. I have no idea what he means. It is loud, but I could never hear it like he could.”

     Alfie peered as far over the chain as he dared. He could just see what appeared to be the lip of the Moulin, before it plunged straight down. The ice grew to a deep blue, and he could only imagine the darkness even further down. The freezing, rushing water, and the unwavering sharp ice below.

     “Let’s head back. You won’t find your father here,” Swift said, turning around.

     Alfie’s eyes widened. “Oh? There’s no chance my father could have- “

     “Not in the slightest,” Swift cut in. Alfie turned to see the old Ruki staring at him, or maybe through him, towards the Moulin’s depths. “He wouldn’t be so foolish as to get any closer than we have already. This is the limit. A step more and there would be no coming back. Your father knew this, and you should too. The chain is there for a reason. Now let’s go.”

     Alfie allowed himself to be led back out of the trench and towards the warm embrace of shelter. Still, even in the deep cold, he felt his eyes strain to catch one last look at the Moulin before it disappeared. A part of him wanting to remain just a few seconds longer.

     ----

     Alfie lay on his father’s cot, trying to sleep. Swift had said the first night would not be easy, and he was right. The wind didn’t let up in the slightest. It seemed to bellow and blow against the shelter with all the force it could muster. Alfie had to lay completely still, staring at the ceiling, and reminding himself that the shelter had survived this long, and it would another night at least.

     He closed his eyes with a frown. He needed sleep. He needed to rest or else he would just be wasting precious time he could have been using to find any sign of his father. Still, the singing of the wind and the ice outside would not subside. He listened to the wail of it off in the distance, disturbing and yet so beautiful. He knew what it was now too. The Moulin sang in the dark. The black water flowing into black tunnels and deep beneath the frost a song of the cold and frigid ice rose to his ears. It seemed to sing of what lay beneath. It promised a glorious shimmering darkness with no feeling. Just the numbing ice and a depth so black and so complete it was like the end of everything, yet still part of something larger.

     ----

     Alfie stood at Swift’s side as he showed him the bore he used to dig into the ice. The older pet cranked the old tool around and around as it dug down deep into the depths of the berg. The morning light was acceptable, and though it was still just as cold as it had been the day before, the wind was gone. Now, they could see off in all directions, and Alfie could clearly make out the track of chain fencing which guarded the sudden drop off into the Moulin.

     “It’s a bit pesky,” Swift grunted. “But when we get it up, we can take it back to the lab and I’ll show you what we do here. Have a look around if it pleases you.”

     Swift seemed to be bent on taking Alfie’s mind off his father’s disappearance, but the young Poogle was not interested in core samples or lab tests. He decided to make a spiral around the testing site and move out from there. He would look over every inch of ice and hope he found something.

     He stayed true to his path, working around and around, leaning down to pick at any lump he thought might be something more. Swift occasionally shooting him a smirk before returning to the job at hand. Try as he might though, Alfie could not seem to find a single thing. He abandoned the core site and wandered back towards the Moulin. Maybe his father had come this way instead.

     The chain surrounding the drop-off clanged in the slight breeze. Alfie gripped the cold metal in his paws and peered down. Truly, from here the drop-off was sudden. He stood over the Moulin, seeing directly down into the chasm. He could see the ice melt shoot off the edge like from a well-buttered slide, strike the far ice wall and send up clouds of spray, before spiralling down into the deep. Truly, Swift had been right. No bottom could be seen. The hole turned to black long before the water turned in anyway.

     However, the water did flow in an interesting formation. It corkscrewed down, spinning deeper, not unlike the bore Swift was currently manning. It must be endless, he thought. Swift seemed to think there was an end, but Alfie couldn’t fathom such a thing. It could never end.

     ----

     The day was filled with busy work on Swift’s part, and the evening was quiet. Alfie didn’t feel like talking, and neither did Swift it seemed. The Ruki was lost in his studies and spoke in little more than grunts to any questions about going out again. Alfie retired to his room out of sheer frustration.

     The wind picked up once more, as he lay still, thinking of the Moulin, thinking of his father. His father had come here for a reason. Swift was right, it could never be bottomless. There had to be a bottom. There had to be a tunnel. A way through the ice and into the numb darkness. His father would never have fallen down such a hole. He would know it’s depth. Nothing was endless, he thought, as the night bore on.

     ----

     The singing in the ice built as Alfie forced himself through the wind and cold out towards the site. The ground beneath his feet seemed to vibrate with it. He could feel the world beneath him; not solid ice, but a porous creature, breathing, singing. There was a bottom. Not that far of a drop, in fact. Nothing was endless, and Alfie had seen it that morning. His father had seen it that morning. The Moulin ended, the bottom reaching up to meet them. To just put his paw out and fall forward. To take a step into the emptiness and trust that the ground would rise to meet him. There was a darkness down there, filled with shimmering light.

     His father sang down there. His voice mixing with the ice to create a sound so lost, lonely, and cold that no pet could understand it alone. Alfie could hear him though. He could hear the ice singing his name. His father was down there. Swift was too afraid to follow, but he would go in his stead.

     The chain fence hung low. He stepped over it easily.

     The ice on the other side was slick and smooth. His chain boots were unable to get a grip. Swift was right, no turning back. The Moulin was dark, in the night you couldn’t see the bottom. But Alfie could feel it as he stepped forward. The water was rushing. The ice was rushing. His father was rushing. And the bottom was rushing, rushing, rushing. Rushing up to meet him.

     The End.