Chapter 1
Chapter One
A few days before Abaddon began his journey…
“Velma, just the person I wanted to see. Congratulations. You’re going to Antarctica!” crowed Giles just as I entered his office with a mouthful of coffee.
Said java spewed all across his desk. “Excuse me? Did you say Antarctica?” I sputtered.
“Pack your warmest gear because you are going to the South Pole for our biggest episode yet. Actually, I’m thinking, given the cost and amount of fodder you can unravel, we’ll probably be able to stretch it into two, maybe even three episodes.
” Giles, the producer of the hottest show around, Unravelling the Myths, vibrated with giddy excitement, which didn’t transfer to me.
For one, I hated the cold. Two, was he out of his fucking mind? The South Fucking Pole? That said, intrigue did slowly begin to build.
“Exactly what am I supposed to be debunking in that barren land of ice and snow?” I dared a sip of coffee as I waited for a reply.
“Surely you can take a guess?”
I racked my brain for any stories I might have heard. To my surprise, a few came to mind. “I’ve heard rumblings about aliens, and don’t the flat Earthers have some theory about some ice wall?”
“Those are just the tip of the iceberg.” Giles practically giggled as he shoved a folder in my direction. “I’ve emailed you a copy of the information the team gathered, but here’s a peek at some of the subjects you’ll be exploring while you’re there.”
Exploring—AKA explaining, AKA shredding to pieces.
See, my show was about demolishing myths and conspiracies, the former usually based in old folklore, the latter spread around social media as the truth.
With the advent of AI, my segments disproving those had been gaining in popularity as people sought to discern fact from fiction.
I plopped into the seat across from Giles before grabbing the folder and flipping through the many pages.
As I read, my brows lifted to my hairline and my mouth rounded.
“Geezus. No wonder you think we can make this a three-parter.” Turned out Antarctica was a hotbed for theories.
Aliens featured predominantly in the notes, but so did a possible Nazi exodus, rumors of secret bases, ancient pyramids, the belief Atlantis might be buried under the ice, hidden tropical oasis’s ala Jules Verne, and shoggoths—monsters inspired by the Lovecraft book, At the Mountains of Madness.
The last page made me laugh, though. “You really think filming from every angle of Antarctica will convince the flat earthers the world doesn’t end there? ”
“If anyone can do it, you can,” beamed my boss and friend.
I mean, he probably had a point. I’d been hosting Unravelling the Myths for years now.
A dream job that had me travelling the world, seeking out the most common folklore and proving the science behind the belief.
Like wet hair giving colds. False. Deoxygenated blood being blue.
Also, nope. True was eating fish helps the brain, and chicken soup really does make a difference if you have a cold, a discovery that led to me calling my mom to apologize.
As for conspiracies… no, the president of the USA wasn’t a lizardman.
Even better, he had a sense of humor and agreed to let me prove it.
He chuckled and cracked jokes as I drew his blood for testing, scraped his skin to show no scales underneath, and x-rayed him in front of a camera.
“So what’s the deal? I thought Antarctica was pretty much closed to visitors,” I remarked, taking another guzzle of much-needed caffeine.
“Another myth!” Giles crowed. “You can visit, it’s just not recommended because the terrain and climate are so harsh.”
“And yet here you are sending me,” I muttered.
Giles arched his left brow. “Is this the right time to say you were invited?”
Once more, I almost spit my coffee. “By who?”
“The NSF.” Which stood for National Science Foundation.
“Due to some recent social media blitzing by influencers claiming the government is hiding the truth about that continent, there’s been an uptick in people wandering to the South Pole, unprepared, I might add.
It’s causing all kinds of problems for the search and rescue crews. ”
“And the solution is to send me and my team to add to the problem,” I drawled.
“More like put a stop to it. The NSF thinks if someone reputable can debunk some of the wilder social media claims, that it will put a stop to the influx of morons.”
I straightened in my seat. “This invite, does it come with any perks?”
“It includes transportation there for you, a videographer, and a sound technician. They’re also providing accommodations, plus an escort to keep you safe while you investigate and get to the truth.”
“Shouldn’t the scientists there already have all the evidence needed to counter the many claims?”
“They do, and they’ll be sharing those findings with you so you can have them verified by our trusted sources.”
“Sounds like that can be done remotely. So why bother going in person?” I asked even as I knew.
Emails, phone calls, even video chats with people were all well and good but they didn’t give the authenticity required.
Being there in the flesh, standing in the spot called into question, actually poking the myth with my little finger, was what the audience—and ratings—demanded.
“Come on, it’s the chance of a lifetime,” Giles cajoled.
“That could see me becoming a meat popsicle. I’d better be getting a helluva of a bonus for this,” I grumbled.
“The biggest.”
“My winter gear will need updating.” A cold New Jersey winter wouldn’t compare to the South Pole’s freezing temps.
“Bill it to the show.” Giles beamed. “So, you’ll do it?”
Of course I would. After all, I’d not gotten my Primetime Emmys and Critics’ Choice Awards by staying safe at home.
“When do I leave?”