Free Time of the Great Freeze by Robert Silverberg Page A

sleep. But the hand that gripped his shoulder shook mercilessly, and finally he pried his bleary eyes open and saw Dave Ellis crouched over him.
    "Your shift," he said. "Wake up!"
    It was nearly dawn. The night had passed rapidly and uneventfully. Jim and Carl, armed with torches just in case, sat shivering in the bitter cold while their comrades slept. Somewhere, twenty or thirty miles behind them and more than a mile straight down, New York's eight hundred thousand people slumbered warm and safe in their beds. Jim did not envy them, though. Better to shiver blue-lipped up here, wolves and nomads and all, than to hide like a worm in the ground!
    The moon slipped from sight. The sky turned from black to iron-gray, then blued as the day dawned. The first pink streaks of morning stained the sky, and the sun rose, a beacon in the east, beckoning to them to continue their journey.
    The sleepers were up soon after sunrise. They had a light breakfast, and while they waited for the jet's accumulators to charge themselves, Ted Callison broke out the radio and started to toy with it.
    "What are you doing?" Chet asked him.
    "Calling London," Ted answered. "We might as well let them know we're coming."
    But there was no response. Ted tried channel after channel, and nothing came in but the dry crackle of static, and then it was time to move on.
    The day was colder than yesterday had been. Clouds hid the sun half the time, and a sharp wind came slicing down from the north. The temperature never got above 15 degrees. The monotony of the journey was broken only twice during the day: in the morning, a solitary wolf loped past them, gave them a startled look, and streaked out of sight. Late that day, as they neared the end of their travel for the afternoon, they came upon the remains of a nomad encampment. Five dome-shaped houses had been built of blocks of ice-"igloos," Dr. Barnes called them-and within were a few gnawed animal bones, some discarded ropes made of wolf sinew, and a broken knife. Of the igloo-builders themselves, there was no sign, and from the looks of things the camp had been abandoned some weeks back.
    * * *
    The next day it snowed. Light, powdery flakes came spiraling down out of the gray sky. The sight was a beautiful one, but it was no fun having the snow drifting into your face all morning, Jim decided. And the sunless day slowed them, since the sleds could not charge and power soon ran short. They had to halt after having gone only fifteen miles. The snow stopped, late in the afternoon. Jim, Carl, and Dom Hannon amused themselves by trying to build an igloo, but the job defeated them. Arranging the foundation blocks was easy enough, but getting the dome to curve properly proved to be no task for amateur architects.
    Ted Callison watched them, smiling sardonically. "You ought to be able to do a better job than that," he told them. "If those illiterate, skin-wearing nomads can build these things, why cant you intelligent New Yorkers do it?"
    "Maybe because we're intelligent New Yorkers," Dom Hannon retorted. "Instead of living out here in the ice and learning how, our ancestors were keeping warm down below."
    "Why don't you show us how to do it, Ted?" Carl invited. "They tell me you're an Indian, so you ought to know."
    "Indians aren't Eskimos," Ted said thinly. "My people lived in log cabins."
    "I thought Indians lived in wigwams," Jim said.
    Ted favored him with a look of vast scorn. "Where did you study your ancient history? Some Indians lived in wigwams, some lived in wooden cabins, some lived in pits in the ground, and some lived in apartment houses made of brick."
    "And some lived in igloos," Carl added.
    "Those were Eskimos!" Ted said, and made a face as he saw he was once again being teased. "Oh, what's the use! Here, let me show you children how to build your little igloo."
    But he had no better luck than they had. After fifteen minutes of trying to put a dome on the igloo, he gave up and walked away, his