Victor Tarasov-Shlishan - Partridge's igloo

Dear friends and Comrades! My country USSR exists under occupation of The International Zionism and Usurper of the Colonial Administration on the territory of RSFSR destroys the Russians. Nevertheless, more than 30 millions citizens of the RSFSR hope for the Revival of the Motherland! The story "Partridge igloo" written in the world famous tradition of Soviet science fiction. This story tells in detail about the mysterious adventure of the Soviet topographer that happened with him, during the Development of natural resources in the Far North of RSFSR. Based on idea and notes of my father, Anatoly Nikolayevich Tarasov (1939-2012). Dedicated to all Pioneers of the Far North of the USSR. For a wide range of readers.

This story happened few years ago. The most interesting thing in this story was that under hypnotic suggestion, I completely forgot it. So I did not remember anything until now, but Indirect evidence that something happened with me, was enough. But what exactly happened, where and when, I did not know and did not remember. How did two days fall out from my memory without a trace?! I had to come to terms with the version of the Senior worker of my Topographic Detachment, Mavletdin Badretdinovich Badretdinov, that I sat all the time under the snow, in the small snow cave, that we all calling «Partridge's igloo» where was keeping my body in warm.

Such auto-suggestion reassured me and as it turned out, completely in vain. Because it was on these days that i experienced an adventure, what influenced my whole future life. But it is one thing to gradually acquire different human abilities, another thing is to constantly be surprised, where did they come from, where is the source of my superpowers hidden? That time I worked as the topographer for the Iconic Seismic Group of Taimyr Geophysical Expedition and lived in the Arctic town, Dudinka. With my family in a two-room apartment, and I considered myself an ordinary, unremarkable person. That winter, we worked northeast of the our base, toward the village Volochanka.

I will not describe in detail the specifics of work in the tundra. I will only say that our seismic group, with the help of resonance-frequency explosions and with the help of special reading and receiving equipment, was looking for underground storage of oil and gas, in the strata of rocks. Where they have accumulated over millions of years. My topographic detachment was considered an auxiliary unit of the seismic party. Our responsibilities included laying a road. Installation of geophysical pickets and instrumental shooting of the area.

The hardest time for work, it is the polar night. Twilight, which we out of habit called day, not conducive to performance. In the Far North in extreme climate, everybody hard to work. I mean workers, tractor drivers and of course, the topographers. Need to catch short hours of dusk, when something visible and hurry to take measurements as much distance as possible during this time. Even at such a fast pace, most of the time I had to move in the dark.

This story began precisely at the darkest time of the polar night. When 17 of December 1982 year, in the morning a southwest wind began to blow. Blowing wind made a noise, but visibility remained satisfactory. I gave a command for everyone to go to work and we laid a seismic profile against the wind, on the bare, without a single bush, hilly tundra. On the flat tops of each hill lay large boulders and pebbles, left by the last glaciation. Snow from the tops of the mountains was blown away by snowstorms.

Soon, after few days, according to my calculations, we will get to the border of the Northern forest Ary-Mas. There the movement of our detachment will be slow, because in the forest we need to clear the cargo way for machinery and equipment near with milestones. There was still a bare tundra around, therefore the guys immediately went ahead and tractor moved after them, towing our house – CUB, or also called as Residential module. I carefully took the testimony of the first stamp of theodolite, after then i slowly followed to them. In an hour and a half, i was stuck on the next brand of theodolite move. The guys have already gone far ahead, together with a tractor that towled our Central Universal Beam – CUB. I still could not to end the next brand, but every minute the wind was getting stronger and i watched with alarm the sharp gusts of it.

Northern snow is constantly moved by the wind in the tundra, nine months a year, which makes it stiff like an emery grain. Which one, now with a gusts of wind, began hit my face and knock out involuntary tears. The same time wind began to whistle and to howle in a theodolite tripod, generating small and gray whirls above the surface of the snow. That is famous and widespread phenomenon in the polar regions. After than snow whirls increasingly began to come off the surface, rising higher and higher, to the theodolite's optics, so now in tube not a single dark spot was already visible. Also for a quolity job, there were not enough light, from the tiny bulbs, which the Senior worker Badretdinov fixed on top of each topographic pole, together with frost-resistant batteries. That is why, just gray haze filled all the view of the optic’s device.

I swore mentally: «Black Blizzard is coming! Damn the weather!». Now I need to stop work in order to get to the CUB before the gusts of wind lift into the air a suspension of the impenetrable snow. I do not want again to hide myself in the Partridge's igloo! Becouse once in my life, i already sat under the snow, in a ravine, more than two days. When i was trembling with cold and damp, in the wet clothes. Also, i constantly cleaned the breathing hole in dense snow so as not to suffocate from suffocation. In addition, all the time I had to fiercely fight drowsiness. That time i felt what it means to be in the Partridge's igloo and this unpleasant experience, was enough for my whole life.

After a few minutes, I finally gave up. Therefore, I closed the theodolite with a special tin lid and folded the tripod, securely placing the instrument on my back, holding the strap over my shoulder. Then I put the accounting journal in my pocket and fastened my feet in the ski bindings and moved to catch up with the detachment. I was annoyed because, due to the pre-storm weather, for almost two hours I took measurements on only one theodolite move! So during this time, the guys made more than three kilometers of clearing and now, was waiting for me, they simply stood idle next to the frozen lake, at the end of the planned route.

Perhaps the reader already understood that the snow on the Taimyr Peninsula is different from the mainland. This snow is heavy and compacted under its own weight and turns into a snow stone. What turns the surface of the tundra into a strong crust, like a sandpaper, on which skis do not go. In the topographic detachment, we do not use ski, like athletes with ski poles. Because everything that we need for work, we carry in our hands. I mean that we keep in hands sawn wooden lath , batteries and bulbs for lighting pickets.

Daily i move along topographic landmarks and measure the distances between of them. Then by theodolite, I measure the vertical and horizontal angles along the entire topographic profile and finally I record all the measurement data in a special log. It was getting dark. I skid down the snowy slope of the hill to move along the track of the tractor. The cold wind intensified again and continued hit me in the face, that is why I had to warm it, by cover it with a mitten. Of couse, now i began to check my face so as not to miss the frostbite.

Suddenly I heard a scream: «Ahhhh!», which turned into a groan, disappearing at the limit of hearing. It was like the cry of teenager girl coming from the right, so I stopped. But just how could a person be here, or did it seem to me? That is why I decided to check it out, maybe someone really needs my help?! So I climbed to the top of the hill on the right, where I drove around a group of large boulders and then ski down, hiding from gusts of wind in a gorge with steep slopes.

At the bottom of the ravine lay a teenage girl strewn with snow. I immediately noticed that she was dressed in local traditional clothing, which was sewn from deer fur and called Pyzhik. Also on her feet was tall and sturdy shoes, beautifully embroidered with beads called Untaykas. The young girl sobbed quietly from pain, but when she saw me, she immediately calmed down and, wanting to say something, pulled me to her.

I asked her: «What happened with you, how did you get here and where is your family?!». She answered me in a thin, slightly hoarse voice: «Omolgi, help me, please! When I rode my deer, your friends with a strong bang fired a red fire into the sky, after which my deer got scared and threw me down. Now my foot is broken and really hurts!». I superficially examined a teenage girl and was surprised to understand first that it was a miniature woman. Secondly, I was discouraged by the fact that she had never seen a signal shot of a rocket. Thirdly, apparently, she is the only one in the world who can ride while sitting on the back of a deer! True, I left my thoughts to myself and said: «Of course I shoud help, first I will take you in my arms to our CUB, where by the radio station I will call a helicopter that will take you to the hospital!».

Having said this in a confident voice, I carefully lifted the girl in my arms, trying not to hurt her. Then I quickly glided forward on the skis, but as soon as I turned to the tractor track, the girl protested: «We do not need your self-propelled home! Please take me to that hill!». To which I objected with dismay: «But there is nothing on that hill, just boulders!». Even so, she insistently affirmed: «Believe me, there is a doctor and a hospital on that hill!». The wind intensified, preparing a long blizzard, about which it informed us, by own howl. So there was no time for bickering with the girl and I replied: «Okay, I am carrying you to the hill, but if there is nothing, we will catch up the CUB!». That is why I turned around and went skiid to the indicated hill, which at times began to completely disappear behind whitish gusts of wind.

My legs alternately at a special angle, pressed the skis to the snowy slope and confidently lifted our bodies up. Therefore, very soon, we reached a vast peak of the flat hill. Where we saw big rocks directed towards the inaccessible sky. Among of them was large boulder, more than 7 feet of high, to the which one, the girl confidently showed by her hand and said: «Man, move me to there, please!». Of course I did it and than carefully lowered her, near the boulder. But as a precaution I took her hand, because here any gusts of wind can knock down.. Now, balancing on a healthy leg, by free hand, she touched the mysterious boulder, but what happened next, made me doubt my sanity!