Michael and Cynthia Atkinson are successful attorneys who have worked at the law firm Maxwell and Peet in Boston, MA, for over twenty years. Michael is a corporate attorney specializing in contracts and torts, while Cynthia is a tax attorney. They met at an office party soon after joining the firm, and although it was not in either of their career plans, they fell in love, actually lust initially, and were married the following year.
It was not surprising that they were attracted to each other. Michael is ruggedly handsome, slightly over six feet tall, with close-cut blonde hair, and is still in top physical condition from all the soccer he played throughout college and continues to play on weekends with his friends. And, although Cynthia has aged a bit, she is still the slender, statuesque brunette beauty that Michael had fallen head over heels for when he first met her at the party.
Unfortunately, there are no children. After spending a lot of time and money, they learned that the only way they could have children would be by surrogacy or adoption. They found neither of those options appealing to them.
Other than not having children, their life has been wonderful. They both enjoy their jobs and find them fulfilling, but most of all, after eighteen years of marriage, they still adore each other. However, their idyllic life is about to change horribly. As they will soon inadvertently release a demon, the Devil itself. Creating a sex-crazed, murderous monster bent on killing everything around it or driving them utterly insane.
Michael and Cynthia have lived in a three-bedroom condominium in Marina Bay, a prestigious waterfront neighborhood in Quincy, MA, for the last three years. It is about a forty-five-minute commute from their offices in Boston, but Marina Bay is such a vibrant neighborhood that it is well worth losing about an hour and a half each working day in travel. It has gotten better for Cynthia as now, on many days, she can work from home, walk to one of the nearby trendy waterfront cafes for lunch, and leisurely watch the boats returning or leaving the harbor.
It will be Michael’s fiftieth birthday in July, four months from now. And, although Michael had professed that he didn’t want to do anything special to celebrate, Cynthia had learned from his secretary that he really wanted to take a cruise to the North Pole. However, he had decided against it when he discovered it would cost around forty thousand dollars per person for the trip.
They had been saving to buy a place in Maine for their retirement, but Cynthia decided that you only turn fifty once, and to use part of their savings for the trip. With their salaries, they could easily make that up in a year or two by putting away a little more each month.
While working alone at home, Cynthia had done some research on the trip. She learned that a highly recommended Russian tour operator, Poseidon Expeditions, regularly operated thirteen-day cruises out of Murmansk, Russia, to the North Pole aboard the world’s largest and most powerful nuclear icebreaker. Also, from what she learned from the reviews, July was the best time to take the trip. She contacted Poseidon Expeditions and was delighted to discover they still had space in a premium Victory suite on a July English-speaking tour.
Poseidon Expeditions would not take credit cards, so after reluctantly arranging a bank transfer of ninety-four thousand dollars, they were all booked for the trip except for airfare. Cynthia found there were no direct flights from Boston to Murmansk and that the best choice seemed to be flying American to Helsinki, spending the night, and taking an early morning Finnair flight from there to Murmansk. It was another eight thousand dollars for first-class seating, but what the heck, it was Michael’s fiftieth.
When Cynthia finally told Michael about the trip, he was almost overcome with joy. Between kisses, he tearfully kept asking her repeatedly whether she did not mind spending so much money on him on such a frivolous thing. Cynthia assured him she wanted to do this for him, and from the photos and videos, it looked like it should be a lot of fun for both of them. She also said she expected great things from him in three years when she turned fifty.
They arranged for coverage at work so they could be gone for up to three weeks, and although there was a bit of grumbling from their department heads, everything got set for their trip. One of the advantages of living in a condominium was that nothing was required for them to leave other than to adjust the thermostat and lock the doors. Cynthia’s only big concern was what to pack for a trip to the North Pole. The expedition most likely would provide all the required outerwear, but what about dinners and the rest of the time? What kind of people spend so much money to travel to the North Pole?
When she discussed this with Michael, he assured her they would all most likely be retired seniors working on their bucket lists. Although Cynthia had said there would be about one hundred and thirty passengers, he doubted that, other than the crew, there would be many people their age.
When their departure date finally arrived, they took an Uber to Logan Airport after dinner and boarded their American flight to Helsinki. Obviously, they were blessed by the gods of travel as there was only a slight delay in leaving, and the weather in Helsinki was forecast to be auspiciously nice.
Their flight was scheduled to leave at 7:50pm and arrive in Helsinki at 2pm. Although there would be one short stop in Edinburgh, the total flight time would only take about ten hours. Michael was sure that after a few martinis, he would have no trouble getting a little sleep during the flight. As usual, Cynthia brought her Trazodone tablets to help her fall asleep.
Michael and Cynthia eventually fell asleep after a reasonably nice surf and turf dinner served along with their drinks and wine. Michael woke up once when they landed in Edinburgh, but another martini solved that issue, and he soon fell asleep again. Cynthia was luckier and slept soundly right through the stopover.
Cynthia had booked them a room at the Crowne Plaza Hotel in Helsinki, which seemed conveniently located. After claiming their bags, they took a taxi from the airport to the hotel and checked in. When they cleaned up, they returned downstairs to take the walking tour the desk clerk had recommended earlier. The weather was perfect. It was clear; the sun was shining with minimal cloud cover, and the outside temperature was supposedly 23 degrees Celsius, which Michael converted for Cynthis to be about 74 degrees Fahrenheit.
There were several picturesque old churches and monuments along the tour, but the Sibelius Monument was their favorite. It is a large abstract sculpture dedicated to the Finnish composer Jean Sibelius, composed of many hundreds of gleaming vertical steel pipes of varying heights welded together, resembling a massive pipe organ.
During their walk, they passed an interesting-looking restaurant that seemingly specialized in Scandinavian food, and they decided to go back there for a drink and an early dinner. Whether it would be a good choice remained to be seen, but from the prices on the menu posted outside, it was definitely a high-end place.
The restaurant’s interior was charming, like a rustic Swiss ski lodge, and fortunately, one of the waiters could speak good English. They recognized several dishes on the menu, but being adventurous, they asked the waiter what he would recommend. He suggested they try the Kalakukko, a traditional fish pie with pork and rye dough baked in a dense, hearty loaf.
He also recommended that they have a German Dry Riesling as a wine, which, with its crisp acidity, would cut through the richness of the fish and rye.
After the dinner, which was delicious, followed by a yummy lingonberry gelato for dessert, they returned to their hotel room. They had planned to watch a little TV, but unfortunately, none of the programs, except for a bad British cooking show, were in English.
In the morning, the hotel provided them with a complimentary shuttle to the airport for their early Finnair flight to Murmansk.
The flight was only abit over an hour. When Michael and Cynthis disembarked and entered the airport, they were met by a Poseidon Expeditions representative who introduced himself as Grigory Melnick. He apologetically informed them there would be a five-day departure delay due to required heating system repairs in the main lounge area. He told them Poseidon Expeditions had reserved a suite for them at the Hotel Azimut, the best hotel in Murmansk, and had a rental car waiting for them so they could sightsee while waiting. He asked them to keep track of their expenses, and they would be reimbursed reasonably.
Azimut might be the finest hotel in Murmansk, but you would never know that from driving up to it. The architecture is the old-style, unpainted blocky concrete style typical of Soviet-era buildings. Cynthia laughingly told Michael, “I think that meets the official definition of Butt Ugly.” Fortunately, their suite was excellent and clean, although clearly dated. Surprisingly, some good Russian champagne and a tin of caviar were in the small refrigerator, waiting for their enjoyment.
The hotel dining room always seemed quite busy with well-dressed elderly tourists, whom Michael and Cynthia suspected were some of their fellow travelers on their cruise.
There are several fascinating museums in Murmansk, but what Michael enjoyed the most was touring the submarine museum. It is a large, formerly active submarine pen located on the city’s outskirts on the Barents Sea, with two decommissioned submarines docked there that they are allowed to tour. One of the boats is over ninety meters long and is supposedly the largest diesel-electric submarine ever built.
However, after three days, they got bored with Murmansk. When they complained to Grigory, who always seemed to be hanging around watching them, he told them about the Kola Superdeep Borehole, which he said is almost eight miles in depth and the deepest hole ever drilled in the earth. He said it is about a three-hour drive, 150 kilometers away, and he suggested they might enjoy sightseeing there, spending the night nearby, and returning the following day.
With his help, they made reservations at a guest house, actually the only guest house, in the town of Zapolyarny, approximately ten kilometers northeast of the borehole site.
After arriving, checking in, and learning he spoke a little English, they asked the old timer running the guest house about the Borehole. He said his name was Pyotr and told them that in 1990, it was shut down and sealed, and that the drill tower was blown up. When they asked him why, he hesitated before telling them, “There is the official story, and there are the rumors.”
“Ok, what is the official story”? Michael asked.
“The official story is that it was much hotter down there than anticipated, and the rocks were so soft it was impossible to drill any further. They said it was like trying to drill into peanut butter.”
“And the rumor?” asked Cynthia.
“The rumor is that the only female on the drill team went crazy, like she was possessed by the Devil. They said that after fucking most of her teammates, she began killing them. They finally stopped her by dousing her in gasoline and burning her up.”
“That is quite a story,” said Cynthia. “Unfortunately, I don’t believe there is a Devil.”
“You asked me what the rumor was, and I told you. I only know that several workers staying here swore it was true,” said Pyotr.
After bundling up in heavy coats that Pyotr lent them, they drove out to the borehole site along a badly neglected dirt road carved through the cold, barren sub-arctic terrain. Although there was some low shrubbery, the landscape was mostly just jagged rocks and frozen earth, with the cruel and unforgiving Barents Sea visible on the horizon.
“It seems totally barren out here. Not a bit of livestock or wildlife visible anywhere,” remarked Michael.
“Yeah, I have not seen anything alive either,” said Cynthia.
When they reached the Borehole, all that was visible were two weathered, dilapidated, multi-story concrete buildings with an area of debris between them. A large wooden structure, obviously the drill tower, once stood there before being destroyed.
After leaving the car, they walked over to the rubble of the drill tower. A small area was cleared in the center of the debris, and the capped-off borehole was distinctly visible. The Borehole, supposedly about nine inches in diameter, was covered with a cap secured by twelve heavily rusted bolts. The letters 12,226 are crudely scratched into the cap, indicating the final maximum depth drilled in meters.
Cynthia looked around and asked Michael, “So what do you believe now? The official story or the rumor?”
“Like you. I don’t believe in a devil, but why go through the expense and effort to blow up the drill tower?”
“Maybe just to keep people from getting injured on it.”
“You’re probably right, Cynthia. That makes good sense.”
“Well, what do you want to do now, Michael?: asks Cynthia. “You’ve seen the Borehole. Big damn deal.”
“I know it is crazy, and as dumb as it may sound, I want to look down the inside of the hole. “
“Why do you want to do that?”
“I don’t know. I’m just curious. Humor me.”
“Well, if that is what you really want, but how in the world will you get that cap off?”
“I have an idea,” Michael returned to the car, removed the lugnut wrench from the trunk, and then returned to the Borehole. Fortunately, the wrench had multiple ends made to fit various lug nuts, and the smallest one perfectly fitted the nuts on the bolts securing the Borehole. However, after trying unsuccessfully for several minutes, Michael is unable to loosen any of the nuts. “It seems I have to figure out how to remove the rust on those bolts.”
“Maybe you can just piss on them?” Cynthia suggested sarcastically,”
That brought a chuckle from Michael before he replied, “Great imaginative idea. Unfortunately, that won’t work. Piss is just a weak acid. I need something more like WD-40.”
“There was that store next to the guest house. Maybe they carry it.”.
“Perhaps. From the quick glance I made of the store as we drove up, it looked like they carry a bit of everything.”
After taking a few photos, Michael and Cynthia drove back to the store in Zapolyarny. And, as Michael surmised, they apparently carry almost everything. After rummaging through the hardware items in the back of the store, Michael exclaims, “I found it. They not only carry WD-40 but also WD-40 Rust Remover. I think I will buy a can of each to be safe. I don’t have any experience with the rust remover.”
“Good, I am glad they carried it. So, are we done here?” asks Cynthia.
“Almost. I want to buy a spool of fishing line so we can lower a cell phone down the hole partway and make a movie. Maybe go down about a mile.”
“You’re not using my cell phone, Michael, and I doubt you are willing to take the chance of losing your precious new iPhone.”
“You’re right. Possibly, the store sells a cheap cell phone with a prepaid SIM card. I was going to buy a SIM Card for my phone for the trip, but it might be handy to just have a prepaid local phone.”
Fortunately, the store carried three cell phones and various prepaid SIM cards. The cheapest phone was a local brand, which Michael converted to the ridiculously low price of only $51, with just a little over $5 more for a 6 GB prepaid SIM card.
After assuring himself that the phone should be able to take at least 30 minutes of movies, Michael bought the phone, the SIM card, and a 1500-meter spool of 5kg test fishing line.
They walked to the guest house next door to tell Pyotr what they planned to do. When they told him, he shook his head, seemingly in dismay, and muttered something in Russian, which they figured must have been him telling them he thought their plan was dumb. However, he must have figured the stupid Americans would do whatever they wanted to do despite his advice, so he didn’t bother to try to stop them. However, he convinced them to stay for lunch and charge up their phone before returning.
After having a lunch of hearty cabbage borscht with black bread, Michael and Cynthia drove back out to the borehole site. Fortunately, the weather seemed a little warmer and more conducive to working outside than earlier. Michael guessed the temperature now to have risen to almost fifty degrees Fahrenheit, whereas before, it was closer to freezing.
The first thing Michael did after returning was to douse each of the bolts liberally with the WD-40 Rust Remover. “Now we need to wait a bit for it to soak in.”
“How long?” Cynthia asked.
“A half-hour should do it. If that doesn’t work, I will try the old-fashioned WD-40.”
“Okay, then get me that fishing line. I will try to make a suitable harness for the phone while we wait.”
“Thank you. I appreciate your help.”
“You’d better, as I agree with Pyotr that the idea is stupid.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No, we have gone this far already. What else do we have to do? But you still need to get that cap off the hole.”
After about thirty minutes, Michael got the wrench and, with much effort, frustration, and a bit of cursing, finally loosened all twelve nuts on the bolts securing the cap. Once he removed the nuts, the cap came free without too much additional effort after banging around the lip with the wrench.
The first thing Michael and Cynthia noticed immediately when the cap finally came off was the highly unpleasant sulfurous stink that wafted out of the hole, enveloping them and bringing tears to their eyes.
“God, that is absolutely awful,” said Cynthia.
“Yech, it sure is. I guess that is what rocks smell like when they melt, or maybe what magma smells like.
“Whatever, it sure stinks like hell.
“Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. Just get the camera rigged so we can get this all over with.”
Cynthia had already tied the end of the fishing line to the harness she had made for the phone, so all Michael had to do before lowering the phone was to turn on the flash and start the camera recording.
With Cynthia watching on impatiently for almost forty-five minutes, Michael slowly lowered the camera into the hole until he had used nearly all of the line. Then he pulled it back up as quickly as he thought he could without damaging the camera.
When he finally pulled the phone out of the hole, it was warm and beat up a bit, but it looked intact. Clearly, the battery had also died. After untying it from the harness, Michael said, “ I’ll recharge the phone when we get back to Murmansk and see what we got. I hope the phone survived the heat.”
After Michael had put the cap back on the hole and tightened the nuts, Cynthia asked, “What should we do with the fishing line?”
“Leave it here. Maybe someone will find a use for it.”
“Then let’s get the hell away from this god-forsaken place.”
As they drove away, Michael remarked, “Can you imagine how miserable it must have been to live and work out here?”
“I don’t think they would have had much use for a pair of attorneys.”
“You never know. You would be damn sexy even in a pair of overalls.”
When they arrived back at the Azimut Hotel and walked inside, they were surprised to see Grigory waiting for them in the lobby. Michael leaned over and whispered to Cynthia, “The only way he could have known our arrival time is if there was a tracking device on the rental car.”
“I wouldn’t be a bit surprised,” Cynthia replied. “This is Russia.”
Grigory came over to greet them and asked, “How was your trip to the borehole site? I hope it was enjoyable?”
“I don’t know about enjoyable,” replied Michael. “But it definitely was educational. We just can’t imagine what it was like to work up there. It had to be a miserable life.”
Grigory was quiet momentarily before replying, “If you believe working there was bad, you should visit our mines further north.”
“I think we will pass on that,” said Cynthia. “Is our ship ready for departure?”
“Yes, we depart tomorrow at 9:00am. That is why I am here, to tell you and to give you your boarding passes and luggage tags. You will be picked up here in the lobby at 7:00am to go to the dock for boarding. Please be all packed and ready to leave.”
“How many passengers are there?” asked Cynthia.
“There are 128 passengers, and the crew size is 140.”
“Why so large a crew?” asked Michael.
“It is a complex ship with two nuclear reactors. There is a lot to do,” replied Grigory.
Later that evening, after dinner and allowing time to charge the cellphone battery, Michael and Cynthia were disappointed when they reviewed the video on the phone. It definitely was not anything exciting. The first twenty minutes were good but boring, clearly showing the casing of the drill hole as they lowered the phone. Then, there was a bright flash and nothing more.
“Do you think the heat got to it? Asked Cynthia.
“I imagine so, or maybe the Devil is camera-shy and turned it off.”
“Sure he did, Michael.”
The next morning, they went down to the lobby at 6:30am with their luggage and had coffee with various flavored blinis that were prepared for them. This was the first time they had seen their fellow travelers together, and they were surprised that some appeared to be at least one couple, about their age.
As they ate, Michael remarked, “You sure were frisky last night. What got into you? Mind you, I am definitely not complaining.”
“I don’t know. I just felt like it.”
“Wonderful! I hope you feel that way often. The more the merrier.”
“Pervert!”
Outside, they could see three buses, which were obviously their transportation to the dock. At 7:00am, Grigory stood on a chair and loudly informed them that it was time to board the buses to the pier. It would be a short ride of only ten minutes. They were to leave their luggage at the door, which would be delivered to their rooms on the boat.
The boarding went very smoothly as there were so few passengers. The crew of about half men and women was all friendly and courteous. It was nothing like the typical chaos of boarding a large cruise ship. They were individually escorted to their suites and pleasantly surprised to see their luggage already waiting for them. Although the furniture was dated, the suite was large, clean, and the separate bedroom had a queen-sized bed and a bathroom with a large tub.
“I guess there is no shortage of hot water with those nuclear reactors,” said Michael.
“I hope the water is not radioactive,” remarked Cynthia.
“I am sure it is not, but what’s the worst that can happen? Maybe we will glow in the dark and won’t need a nightlight.”
“Smartass!”
Lying on the desk was a detailed itinerary for the trip. Highlighted in yellow was a mandatory introductory meeting at 10:00am in the main auditorium today. It informed them that coffee, tea, and vodka would be available, and breakfast would be served in the main dining room after the meeting. It also advised them to remain in their rooms or the upper decks during departure for personal safety.
The meeting went smoothly, as they had clearly done this many times before. The Captain, Alexy Grogonik, introduced himself and the senior crew members. Captain Grogonnik was a stout, powerful-looking bear of a man, and although he looked younger, he informed them he had been commanding icebreakers in these waters for almost thirty years.
He told them that in the information packet left in their rooms was a signup sheet for the optional activities in which they might wish to partake. They should fill that out during the next two days. He said the purpose of those sheets was only to judge their interest in the various activities for planning purposes and was not a firm commitment on their part. There would be actual daily signup sheets at breakfast each day.
After the presentation, Cynthia and Michael entered the dining room and sat at one of the tables set for eight with vacant seating. They were delighted to see that a couple about their age was seated across from them.
Michael began the introductions of the people sitting at the table by introducing himself and Cynthia. They learned that two couples were close friends in their early seventies, and their husbands had worked together in banking in New York before retiring. Visiting the North Pole was on both of their husbands’ bucket lists. They learned that the younger couple opposite them were Dan and Lois Parker. They said they operated a thriving cattle station in ‘The Top’ and wanted to get away and do something different.
“What is ‘The Top,” asked Michael, confused.
“I’m sorry,” replied Dan. “That’s what we call the Northern Territory of Australia.”
After breakfast, Michael and Cynthia gravitated toward Dan and Lois, and they spent most of the day together on the observation deck, watching as the ship majestically plowed through thick sheets of ice and playing bridge, which, fortunately, both couples enjoyed.
Over drinks later that evening after dinner, they were surprised to learn that Dan and Lois were swingers, and spouse-swapping was quite common among their circle of friends in the ‘The Top’ near their station.
Lois cautiously inquired if they might be interested in that, but Michael apologetically stated, “I’m sorry. You’re an attractive couple, but that is not my thing.”
When Cynthia said nothing, Dan asked, “What about you, Cynthia? You don’t seem to be outraged by the idea.”
Cynthia was quiet momentarily before answering, “No, I am not; however, we’re a couple, and if Michael is not interested, that is that. — Although who knows? Maybe I can convince him?”
Michael was shocked by Cynthia’s comment. And wondered, who in the hell is this woman? This is so unlike her. She has always been sort of a prude and won’t even watch porno movies with him. Could this be because of the Borehole? Nah, that is silly boogy-man stuff..
Later, after they had gotten into bed, Michael turned toward Cynthia and asked, “You would actually consider having sex with another man?”
“I might. I’m not getting any younger, and you only live once.”
“Cynthia, you are starting to act a bit weird.”
“And you would not consider sleeping with another woman?”
“No, of course not; I am more than happy with you, especially after last night.”
“Well, then, what are you waiting for now, Michael? A written invitation?”
Several minutes later, Michael had finished and turned away. Finally, when Cynthia was sure he was sleeping by his regular deep breathing, she cautiously climbed out of bed to avoid disturbing him. She then put on her robe, cracked open their cabin door, and peeked out to see if the hallway was empty. When she was sure it was, she stepped out and closed the door quietly behind her. Cynthia stealthily went down the hallway to Dan and Lois’s cabin and lightly knocked on their door.
A few moments later, Dan opened the door, smiling broadly, when he saw Cynthia standing there. “Where’s Michael?” He asked as he looked down the hallway.
“Michael would rather sleep. I take it you two would not mind a threesome?”
“Not in the least.”
In the morning, as they were dressing, Michael asked Cynthia,” I woke up last night, and you were not in bed. Couldn’t you sleep?”
“I did initially, but woke up later and couldn’t go back to sleep, so I got up for a little while, went into the sitting room, and read. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“You must be tired now.”
“No, actually, I feel quite good. What’s on the agenda for today?”
Damn it, she’s lying, thought Michael. After all these years, I know when she’s lying. Cynthia must have joined Dan and Lois last night after she thought I was asleep. It must be because of the Borehole, but what can I do? Maybe the ship has a chaplain I can talk to?
Michael picked up the activity printout they had been provided and, after quickly scanning it, said, “Today and tomorrow’s agenda are basically the same. There are lectures on Arctic history and wildlife, tours of the engine and reactor rooms, helicopter rides, and walks on the ice. It also said the gym, swimming pool, and sauna would always be open 24 hours a day.
Cynthia told Michael she was not particularly interested in seeing the reactors or engine room, but would probably go swimming and get a massage while he took the tour.
After dressing, they went to the dining hall for breakfast. Michael was disappointed to see that Dan and Lois were not there and said to Cynthia, “I thought Dan and Lois would be here to get an early start on the day’s activities.”
“Who knows? Maybe they are sleeping it off after a wild night of sex.”
”Do you think they hooked up with another couple?’ Michael said innocently as he looked around the room. “The pickings here are a bit slim.”
“Either that or someone with a hell of a lot of sexual stamina.”
“If that is true, it must have been someone younger, like one of the ship’s crew? Those Russians sure look like a hardy bunch.”
“You never know, Michael. You might be surprised.”
I doubt that, thought Michael.
The breakfast served was excellent and very filling. There were assorted blinis, which seemingly were a Russian staple, bacon, and pancakes with various flavored syrups.. The only thing lacking was the absence of fresh fruit, as all they served were canned fruits and juices.
During breakfast, an announcement was made over the loudspeaker system that the ship would be stopping at 10:00am for seven hours to allow passengers time to take helicopter rides and walks on the ice, which they said was over 3 meters thick. They also told them there were polar bears nearby, which necessitated their always staying together and having armed escorts on the walks.
Signup sheets were passed out, and Michael and Cynthia signed up for the activities they thought they would each enjoy. The only activity they agreed to do together was a 4:00pm helicopter ride before dinner that would allow them to visit a small nearby island that the polar bears and walruses called home.
Michael also signed up to tour the engine and reactor rooms after lunch. And as Cynthia had said, she would get a massage and take a swim in the heated saltwater swimming pool while he was busy doing that.
Three lectures in English were available after breakfast, and Cynthia decided to attend the one offered on early arctic explorers of the region, while Michael chose to participate in a lecture on the financial implications of opening the Northwest Passage. The third lecture was too technical for both of them and concerned the logistics of constructing an international icebreaker fleet. However, Michael pretended he was interested and would go by himself.
Instead of going to the lecture, Michael went looking for the man the steward had told him was the ship’s chaplain. That turned out to be a total waste of time as the chaplain was onboard only to provide for the ship’s crew and was of the Russian Orthodox denomination. Also, Michael learned that he spoke no English.
Following that debacle, Michael joined a group of about twenty people, predominantly men, on a tour of the ship’s reactors, engines, and other mechanical areas.
There were only two masseuses on the ship, and the earliest Cynthia could schedule a massage was at 2:00pm, so she decided to go for a swim first. Cynthia had been on the swim team in college and enjoyed spending her free time doing laps in a pool whenever possible.
Four older women were in the pool when Cynthis began her swim, but they left soon afterward, allowing her the luxury of solitude as she gracefully swam her laps. At least Cynthia had thought she was alone, as Captain Grogonik had quietly entered earlier and was enjoying himself watching her apparently effortless glide through the water.
Although Cynthia was approaching fifty, she retained a beautiful, statuesque body that was clearly on display in the bathing suit she was wearing. Maybe it was his loud, deep breathing or penetrating stares, but Cynthia soon sensed Captain Grogonik’s presence and his unabashed ogling of her body.
When she came abreast of where he was standing, Cynthia stopped swimming, looked up at the Captain, and brazenly asked, “Do you like what you see, Captain?”
The Captain smiled wickedly and said, “Da. You are a beautiful woman.”
“Do you like women, Captain?”
“Da, very much.”
“Would you like to try a free sample?”
Captain Grogonik was taken aback by this bold suggestion but quickly recovered and stated lecherously, “I would.”
“Is there a private place we can go to nearby?”
“Da. The store room. I can lock the door from the inside.”
Their tryst on a bed of used towels in the storeroom was so intense and demanding that Cynthia missed her 2:00pm massage and returned to their stateroom barely in time to dress for the 4:00pm helicopter ride. Captain Grogonik was renowned for his sexual prowess, but was so totally worn out afterward that he retired to his cabin to take a much-needed nap to recuperate. Something he had never required before.
Michael was in their stateroom when Cynthia returned, and noticing how flushed and disheveled she was, said, “Are you okay, Cynthia? I thought you were going for a massage and a swim. Instead, you look like you just ran around the ship several times.”
“I’m sorry. After my swim, I went to the gym and worked out for a while. I just need to take a quick shower to get the sweat and salt off me. I’ll be ready in a few minutes, I promise.”
“Did you get your massage?”
“Yes, before I took my swim. How was your tour?”
“Very impressive, especially the two nuclear reactors.”
When they finished dressing, Michael and Cynthia went to the helicopter hangar on Deck 3. There, they were issued heavy coats, gloves, and snow boots. The tour director told them the helicopter they used carried twenty-four passengers, two crewmen, and two security guards.
When asked about the need for the two guards, the director said that, weather permitting, they would land on the island and the guards were for their personal protection. He said he was a trained helicopter pilot and would accompany them as their guide and the second helicopter crewman.
It was only about a twenty-minute ride to the small island, which their guide said was only about six square kilometers in size. Fortunately, the weather was clear, and he decided it was safe to land on the beach close to the numerous walruses sunning themselves on the nearby rocks. Their tour guide told them they must keep a safe distance away, as the walruses were territorial and could be very dangerous. Michael was surprised at how big some of them were and was told the males grow to over 1500 kilograms or 3500 pounds.
After taking many pictures, highlighted with many verbal “oohs” and “aahs,” it was decided to get back in the helicopter and look for polar bears. That turned out to be far easier than they had expected, as when they were leaving, they were surprised to spot a large polar bear that had stealthily approached the helicopter and was standing motionless, staring at them from only about seventy-five meters away.
“Well, this could get exciting Michael said to Cynthia. “I hope our guide and the guards are good shots.”
Overhearing their conversation, the tour guide remarked, “We are all ex-military and are excellent shots, but I’m amazed the polar bear isn’t trying to come closer. It’s like he is scared of something.”
“Maybe it is your guns?” said Michael.
“I don’t think so,” said their guide. “And I have been doing this for almost ten years. Something else is keeping the bear away.”
“What do you think it is?”
“I don’t have a clue. Maybe someone’s perfume or aftershave is acting as a repellent.”
“If we can figure out what it is, a polar bear repellent could be a good business opportunity,” remarked Michael.
As they were boarding the helicopter, the guide told Michael,” You might want to check on what your wife is wearing, because that bear seemed fixated on her.”
The next three days of the journey to the North Pole fell into a routine for most passengers: lectures, occasional walks on the ice, and daily helicopter tours.
During the day, when Michael and Cynthia were together, they spent much of their free time with Dan and Lois, and Michael could not help notice how close Cynthia had become to the couple. He had little doubt she was involved in a threesome with them.
Michael knew he needed to get help for Cynthia, but who would he ask? Definitely not the Captain, or Dan and Lois. Maybe if the ship had a real chaplain, but it didn’t. But how could someone possibly help? Perhaps they should lock up Cynthia now before she starts killing? No, it is still too soon. They should wait and see what happens, as hopefully, that part of the rumor may not even be true.
A bridge tournament was also started, and Michael enjoyed playing regularly for at least a few hours each day to get his mind off Cynthia. Cynthia was not as interested in cards and played only occasionally, finding other, more gratifying ways to spend her free time.
Somehow, Captain Grogonik always managed to find time each day for sex with Cynthia in his cabin while Michael was playing bridge. However, not surprisingly, a few of the ship’s senior officers became aware of these trysts. When they confronted Cynthia with their discovery, she agreed to service them all in exchange for their maintaining their silence.
Unfortunately, bad luck seemed to envelop the ship. There were several unexplained accidents and falls, some quite serious, including over a dozen passengers becoming ill from ingesting confectionery sugar that somehow had been contaminated with rat poison.
Luckily, the ship’s excellent medical staff was able to quickly pump their stomachs, and most of those who fell ill were only bedridden for less than a day. After checking with the tour company’s HQ in Murmansk, Captain Grogonik informed those injured that the company had decided their fares would be refunded as compensation for their suffering.
On Day 7, they finally reached their goal, the North Pole. The ship stopped after dropping its anchors and notifying the passengers that they had arrived. The first thing that occurred afterward, as the passengers watched on from the lower decks, was that a team made up of some of the tour’s geological experts climbed down to the ice and hiked around until their telemetry equipment they carried indicated they had located the exact position of True North.
The team then marked the location with red spray paint and planted a flag in the center with the signage “North Pole.” Then they placed a ring about a meter in diameter with compass markings over the flag. After orienting their compass ring properly, the team stepped back from the demarcation. Over the loudspeaker, Captain Grogornik announced, “Everyone should come down onto the ice and take a walk around the North Pole, and circumnavigate the globe.
He continued, “There will be a barbecue dinner served afterward on the ice with an open bar for your enjoyment. Also, for the more adventurous of you, we will locate a nearby place where the ice is thin enough to break through for a traditional North Pole polar swim.”
Thankfully, the weather cooperated, and the cookout and swim were wildly successful. Almost all of the passengers, including Michael and Cynthia, seized the chance to participate in the unique North Pole swim experience.
Unfortunately, the gala ended abruptly later when the First Mate somehow tripped on the stairway coming down from his cabin on the ship’s upper deck and sustained a severe head injury. No one could visualize how an accident like this might have happened, as he was the Ship’s Safety Officer and always very cautious. A steward came forward later and said that there was a lady in his cabin before the accident who looked like Mrs.Atkinson.
Of course, Cynthia denied the accusation; however, her denial was called into question as another female passenger whose cabin was close to Michael and Cynthia had fallen on the stairs the previous day, and claimed she had been pushed.
Michael repeatedly confronted Cynthia and tried unsuccessfully to convince her to control herself before it was too late, but all she did was laugh in his face and call him a boring prude.. She freely admitted sneaking out to Dan and Lois’s cabin at night and having daily sex with Captain Grogonik. She told Michael he needed to lighten up as she was just having fun.
She might be having fun, but what about all the accidents? Could the rest of the Kola Borehole rumor be valid? Was Cynthia now possessed by the Devil, as the rumor said, and had started causing the accidents and would soon begin killing everyone?
Michael realized he needed to speak with the Captain immediately and get his help before it was too late. He could not delay any longer.
Although it was almost bedtime, Captain Grogonik agreed to meet with Michael in his cabin when Michael told him it was about what was causing the accidents on the ship.
After Michael arrived, Captain Grogonik poured each of them a tumbler of vodka. He then had Michael sit down at the lounge, and then he sat down in the chair opposite him and asked, “Okay, Mr. Atkinson, what do you know about the accidents? We have never experienced anything like this before.”
“Hopefully you never will again, and please call me Michael.”
“So Michael, tell me all about it.”
“You may think I am crazy, but this all starts at the Kola Superdeep Borehole. Have you heard about the Kola Borehole Captain?”
“Of course, I have heard about it. It is close to Murmansk. I drove out with some friends to see it in the late 1990s.
“Have you heard about why they discontinued drilling there, Captain, and sealed the hole?”
“I assume it was because the drilling had become too difficult to continue.”
“You haven’t heard about the rumor that circulated afterward?”
“I vaguely remember something, but none of the details. But, what does this have to do with my ship?”
“Because, as impossible as the rumor sounded, apparently, it was true. The rumor was that the lone female worker at the drill site went crazy and began screwing all her teammates, and then started killing them afterward. “They ended up burning her up to stop the madness.”
Captain Grogonik was quiet for a while and, after taking a drink, asked, “And Michael, why does that concern you and me?”
“Because we opened up the borehole a few days ago, and I believe Cynthia was inhabited.”
“Inhabited?”
“Yes, like in the rumor, possessed by the Devil.”
“You actually believe in that crap?”
“I didn’t before, but I sure do now”.
Captain Grogonik stared at Michael in disbelief before finally saying, “I think we need another drink. At least I do.”
After refreshing their drinks, Captain Grogonik was about to sit down, but instead stood up and began pacing the room in stunned silence, while sipping his drink before finally stopping his pacing and saying, “Michael, that sounds absolutely crazy, but it sure does explain a lot. I am sure you are aware by now that your wife, or whoever is passing herself off as your wife, is sex crazy and has seemingly no moral inhibitions. She has been screwing me and I believe several of my crewmen daily. She is totally insatiable.”
“That is what I assumed, but what can we do, Captain? I have no control over her at all.”
“I’m not certain, but I should have talked to you sooner.”
Captain Grogonik came over and sat back down, deep in thought. After a few minutes of silence, he finally said, “For the time being, based on what you suspect might happen, we have to at least take her out of circulation, at least for our own self-protection. I think we should drug her and keep her locked up in the ship’s brig for the rest of the voyage. Maybe the authorities will have some ideas on what to do with her after we return.”
“Do you have drugs strong enough to do that?”
“We have darts loaded with fentanyl for the polar bears.”
“Then use one.”
“Are you sure, Michael?”
“Yes, Captain. Whatever it takes. She definitely isn’t Cynthia, the woman I married. I don’t even know what she is now.
By this time, rumors had been circulating widely among the ship’s passengers and crew about Cynthia. They said that she has been acting weird, and something mentally was definitely wrong with her. So it came as no surprise when Captain Grogonik announced on the public address system that Mrs Atkinson had a mental breakdown and was being held in isolation for her protection.
Afterward, most of the passengers went out of their way to express their sympathies to Michael and assure he was still included in activities. However, that was not the case with Dan and Lois. They must have thought their threesomes were somehow responsible for Cynthia’s breakdown, so whenever possible, they avoided Michael.
The next three days of the trip were spent exploring the Franz Josef archipelago, which is supposedly one of the most inaccessible regions of the Arctic. Thankfully, up to then, there was no new news about Cynthia.
Michael had joined a large group of passengers on a nearby walking tour to explore the first Soviet polar station. As they were returning to the ship afterward, multiple gunshots rang out, shattering the previous quiet. First one shot and the three more.
The two tour guides told the passengers to please wait where they were. That they would run back to the ship and find out what was happening.
Shortly after, the tour guides went back to the ship; one of the guides returned and asked Michael to accompany him back to the boat. He said the problem was his wife. She had escaped captivity, killed her guard, and wounded two other crewmen..
When Michael came aboard and went down to the area of the hold, they were using as the brig. Captain Grogonick was there, standing over the body of Cynthia and holding a dart rifle.
“What happened?” Michael asked.
“Your wife, Cynthia, or whatever it is, seduced her guard and got him to open the door. When he did, she grabbed him and snapped his neck by wringing it over 180 degrees. Other crewmen heard his dying outburst and rushed forward to try to save the guard. They ended up being brutally pummeled until one of the men shot Cynthia.”
“Did that kill her? Asked Michael.
“No, surprisingly, it didn’t. It knocked her down, but within a few minutes, she started to get up and smiled, as if nothing had happened, and this was just a game. The crewman then shot her three more times, making sure he hit her at least once in the head.
“After a few minutes, she again began to revive. Fortunately, by then I had arrived with the dart gun and shot her with that.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“For the time being, we will put her back in the brig with additional guards. Tomorrow we pass by the deepest trench in the Barent Sea, and I am going to ask HQ to allow me to drug her and shove her into a canvas mail sack. Then, using chains for weights, throw her into the water at night when most people are sleeping.”.
“Do you think HQ will go along with that?
“Yes, I am sure they will to avoid a scandal. We will just officially report that Cynthia suffered a severe mental breakdown. When we tried to confine her, she escaped captivity and fell off the ship through the ice, and her body was unrecoverable. “That will be the formal statement we release.
“Good, that should suffice.”
“I am also sure HQ will want to discuss compensation with everyone to ensure their silence. That includes you, Michael.”
“Thank you.”
“I am sure after the inquiries, I will be facing a forced retirement.”
“Sorry to hear that, Captain.”
“As you westerners like to say, sometimes shit just happens. I am so sorry that this has been such a painful tour for you.”
“Well, tomorrow is my fiftieth birthday, and this will be one hell of a lousy way to celebrate it. And do you know what?’
“What?”
“I don’t think it is over. I think she somehow will eventually return.”
.
