the work this other Nora and her fellow scientists had been doing was something to do with determining the speed
at which the ice and glaciers had been melting in the region, to gauge the acceleration rate of climate change.
There was more to it than that, but that was at the core of it, as far as Nora could see.
So, in this life, she was doing her bit to save the planet.
Or at least to monitor the steady devastation of the planet in order to alert people to the facts of environmental crisis.
That was potentially depressing but also a good and ultimately fulfilling thing to do, she imagined. There was purpose. There was meaning.
They were impressed too. The others. With the polar bear story.
Nora was a hero of sorts – not in an Olympic-swimming-champion way, but in another equally fulfilling kind of fashion.
Ingrid had her arm around her. “You are the saucepan warrior.”
“And I think we need to mark your fearlessness, and our potentially groundbreaking findings, with a meal.”
A nice meal. And some vodka. What do you say, Peter?” “A nice meal? In Longyearbyen? Do they have them?As it turned out: they did.
Back on dry land they went to a smart wooden shack of a place called Gruvelageret perched off a lonely road in an austere, snow-crisp valley.
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