Meltwater (Fire and Ice)

you can fly?
    Gareth: they say they will make another announcement at 3pm. it all depends on the wind apparently.
    Erika: okay, don’t leave the airport. get your ass on the first plane to reykjavik.
    Gareth: ok. i’ll let you know as soon as they tell me my flight’s leaving.
    Erika stared at the screen. The video editing was going well. Dieter and Apex had set up a complicated series of websites to host it. The big weakness was verification.
    Erika: apex, did you get that?
    Apex: yeah.
    Of course he did. It might be the middle of the night around the other side of the world, but Apex would be faithfully staring at his screen.
    Erika: are you still worried about the engine noise of the helicopter?’
    Apex: frankly, yes. gareth says it’s probably just the wind conditions at the time of the incident, or the pitch of the rotor blades, but i need him to check it out properly, which he
hasn’t been able to do yet.
    Erika: maybe he’ll get out tonight. or tomorrow.
    Apex: he had better. but i do have some good news.
    Erika: what?
    Apex: 15,000 euros just hit our account.
    ‘Yes!’ Erika punched the air. ‘See that, Dieter?’ she shouted across the room to her colleague, but he was still staring at his screen, earphones on, waiting for her to
type something.
    Erika: yay!!! where did it come from?
    Apex: no idea. all donations are anonymized. you know that.
    Erika: yes, but can’t you get into the system and find out?
    Apex: i set it up so I couldn’t. we agreed it was better all round if we didn’t know where the money came from.
    Typical Apex, Erika thought. What a warped sense of integrity he had; she didn’t understand it. She wondered who the donor was. Viktor, perhaps? But why would he make it anonymously?
    Still, fifteen thousand euros was fifteen thousand euros. She wasn’t going to quibble.
    Erika: can you send it on to Sweden?
    Apex: it’s on its way. i contacted them and they confirmed as long as their bank gets the funds by friday, they’ll host our sites over the weekend.
    Erika: so we are all set. as long as gareth gets here tomorrow.
    Apex: what about alan? wasn’t he flying to london this morning?
    ‘Shit!’ exclaimed Erika.
    Erika: i’ll check.
    She picked out one of the phones Viktor and Dúddi had bought, and dialled a US cell-phone number.
    ‘Alan Traub.’
    ‘Hey, Alan, it’s Erika. Where are you?’
    ‘At the Hertz desk at Heathrow.’
    ‘Thank God. I thought your flight might have been cancelled. There’s an ash cloud from the volcano here heading for Britain.’
    ‘They didn’t tell us anything about that. But I’m definitely in England now.’
    ‘Are you going to see Samantha Wilton?’
    ‘Called her yesterday. She lives in Beaconsfield: it’s not far from the airport. I’ll probably be there in an hour or so. When can I say she can see the video?’
    ‘We’re aiming to have it finished noon Sunday. I’ll fly to London that afternoon and I’ll bring it with me. She can see it that evening. We’ll do the press
conference on Monday and put it up on our website then. I warn you, she’s not going to like it.’
    ‘I’ll tell her that. But I know she’ll want to see it.’
    ‘And she’s happy with attending the press conference?’
    ‘I’ll talk to her about it this morning.’
    ‘OK, I won’t keep you. Give me a call when you’ve spoken to her.’
    Erika hung up. Things were coming together. She called across to Franz. ‘How are you doing with the end credits?’
    Ásta checked the bathroom door upstairs. It was still locked. Someone had been in there for at least ten minutes.
    She heard a sound from inside. She put her ear to the door. A sob. It was definitely a sob.
    ‘Zivah?’ It sounded like a woman and she knew Erika was downstairs. ‘Zivah? It’s Ásta. Do you want to talk?’
    Ásta heard sniffing, and then a voice, Zivah’s voice. ‘Do you need the bathroom?’
    ‘No, I’m OK. But are you?’
    The door opened. Zivah’s eyes were red, and her cheeks were stained with tears.
    ‘What’s wrong?’ Ásta asked.
    ‘Oh, Ásta, I’m scared. I’m so scared.’
    Ásta opened her arms and enveloped Zivah. ‘Hey. Let’s go into your room and we’ll talk about it, eh?’
    Ásta led Zivah into the room she shared with Erika. Zivah avoided the bed, which was Erika’s, and flopped on to her sleeping bag neatly folded on the floor. Ásta sat herself
down next to her. They both leaned back against the wall, shoulder to