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The University of Fairbanks sat on top of a hill with a view of endless sky and the city beneath. Official signs were written in both English and Dena’ina, the native language of the area. The university took its Far North location seriously, sponsoring research in everything from the tundra to the preservation of indigenous languages.
At least, that was what Molly gleaned from her Google searches on the drive up, as she and Sam maintained a cool silence.
They met Professor Matt Inuviaq in his classroom as he was wrapping up a lecture. Students clustered around the man, who was in his mid-thirties and quite attractive, with a kind smile and twinkling dark eyes. He wore a chambray shirt rolled up to his elbows and blue jeans, along with a thong necklace with a walrus tooth dangling from it.
“Summer school,” he explained as he pulled out chairs for them. “Guess I’m a glutton for punishment.”
“No field research this summer?” Sam asked as he shook the scientist’s hand.
“I’m waiting on a grant proposal to come through. In the meantime, talking about climate science is my jam.”
Molly figured he was at least part Native Alaskan, based on his name and general appearance. As part of her Google searches, she’d read up on the way climate scientists were working with indigenous Arctic communities to learn more about the effects of warming on sea ice. Dr. Inuviaq’s name had come up a few times in that research.
“Well, you’re always welcome back to Firelight Ridge.”
“One of my favorite places,” he said with a smile. “One of the quirkiest, too, and that’s saying a lot here in Alaska. So what can I help you two with?”
Molly liked the way he included her, even though he’d barely just met her.
“How familiar are you with icefalls?”
“Very. An icefall is created when a glacier reaches a steep downhill slope in the underlying bedrock. Icefalls are basically hanging glaciers but they move at a faster rate. Not fast, mind you. We’re still talking about geological time. Gravity is always pressing the ice downward. Imagine millions of tons of ice tumbling downhill in extreme slow-motion and you get the picture. Icefalls generally have a more crevassed and chaotic surface, extremely dangerous. They’re quite spectacular, as I’m sure you know from the Korch icefall, known as the Firelight Ridge Ice Falls.”
“So it’s actually moving? The glacier and the icefall?” Molly asked.
“Oh yes. Glaciers are always moving. You can hear it when you’re on them. The ice is always cracking and moaning. Millions of tons of ice are slowly moving downhill, building up pressure on the ice that’s already below. They move slowly but relentlessly.”
“No stopping them?” Sam asked.
“No stopping them. As they get to lower elevations, they become a mix of melted ice and solid ice. And of course the warming climate makes them melt faster.”
“What would happen if an icefall melted all at once?” Molly asked.
The scientist chuckled. “Catastrophe. That would be like Jokulhaup times a thousand.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Molly had no idea what he’d just said.
“Jokulhaup is an Icelandic word that we use for when a glacially dammed lake overflows from the melting glacial water. It happens now and then in Firelight Ridge, with Smoky Lake.” He shook his head. “But an icefall wouldn’t melt all at once. They’re massive. Icefalls are thousands of feet high. The Firelight Ridge Ice Falls is seven thousand and eight-two feet. Even with climate change, it’s a slow process. That too can bring catastrophe, but it’s not a sudden thing. The process is already underway everywhere. If we could stop it, we would. People don’t realize the consequences that come with rapid glacial melt. They think only a few villages in the Arctic will be affected, but that’s completely untrue.”
Sam held up a hand, probably to stop his flow of words before it turned into a lecture. “Have you ever heard of any legends about icefalls?”
“Legends?”
“Stories, myths, that kind of thing. Prophecies.”
“Prophecies? No. Ice is extremely important to all the northern indigenous cultures, almost like family. We rely on the ice. It’s an intimate relationship, and it’s devastating on a cultural level to experience the melting. But no, no prophecies regarding icefalls that I know about.”
Molly lifted her hand up, feeling like a student in a class. “I have a question.”
“Last one. Then I need to get back to work.”
“You said icefalls are dangerous. Is that because of the crevasses?”
“Crevasses, seracs.”
“What’s a serac?”
He glanced at his watch again. “A serac is a freestanding ice column that forms when two crevasses intersect in an icefall or any hanging glacier. They’re extremely unstable.”
