"Mr Mayhew. I've been expecting you," the voice rang out. A bright, white light shot through my head, making me squeeze my eyes shut to block it out. When it finally faded, I found myself in a huge cavern of solid ice. Everything from the walls, to the ceiling, to the floor was carved from an aqua blue ice that glinted cunningly. My breath puffed out in front of me in a wisp of mist from the cold.

"Hello?" I called. My voice echoed around the cavern, bouncing off the walls but no one answered. "Hello? Is anyone there?" Again, silence. I forced myself to take deep breaths, trying to calm my hammering heart. There was nothing here. It was just a dream.  I am still in my tent  I kept telling myself. The voice I had heard was just my imagination.

So why wasn't I waking up?

Up ahead, I could see daylight shining off the ice's surface like a beacon. It must have been from an opening or an exit somewhere in this ice cave.

Cautiously, I stepped forward, afraid that the ice may shatter beneath my feet and I would be plunged into inky black water below. But it held, so I took another step. Soon, I was crossing the cavern with ease, quickly but carefully making my way to the exit. I didn't even know why I was trying so hard to escape. If this was just a dream, then I would surely wake up in a few seconds in my tent. Even if this was just a dream, there was something about this place that really unnerved me.

Dream or not, I had to get out of here.

Finally, I managed to cross the cavern safely and walked quickly towards the daylight. A sharp, biting wind was being funnelled into the cavern, wailing in protest at being contained by the ice walls. The bitterness of the wind stung my face and tore at my clothes.

After what seemed like an eternity, I burst out of the cavern, grateful to be free. After taking a moment to catch my breath and compose myself, I looked up to take in my surroundings.

I was on a cliff that looked out over the vast Antarctic Ocean. The sea was rough and angry, the waves pounding the bottom of the cliff in frustration. The sky above was as flat as glass, a smooth grey that seemed to stretch for miles and miles. The wind was ferocious and unforgiving as it tugged at me, whispering orders to the sea, from Mother Nature, to rise up in anger.

But that wasn't what I was worried about.

A dark figure stood right on the edge of the cliff, their hands clasped behind their back. They seemed to just be gazing out across the ocean, as if he could see the entire world from just this spot. It  reminded me of a stern school headmaster watching over  his pupils, just watching and wating. For some reason, the image made me shiver.

"Hello, Mr Mayhew," he said suddenly. "I've been waiting  a long time to meet you. I'm so glad that we finally can."  I blinked. Was he talking to me? But I'm dreaming. This wasn't real.

"Who the hell are you?" I asked, deciding to play the game. "How do you know my name? Are you in my head?"

"Yes, to answer your last question," the man said, vaguely amused it seemed to me by my obvious fear and confusion.  He still hadn't turned around to face me. "I am contacting you through your dreams. It was the only way that I could talk to you, as you can see. But no matter, we shall meet in person soon enough."

"Why me?" I shouted over the wind that seemed to be picking up speed and strength. "What do you want?" He laughed, chuckling to himself.

"Where's the fun in telling you all the answers?" he asked. "I can't be destroying the game, Mr Mayhew, not when it has only just started."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I snorted, trying to give the impression that I was not frightened by him. The man sighed, visibly shaking his head.

"You humans are so impatient, so unintelligent," he said. "You could do so much more."

"And I guess that is why you're here?" I asked, a hint of sarcasm in my voice. "To show us what more we could do?"

"Well, now you put it that way," the man said. "Yes, I suppose."

"You're speaking as if you're not human," I pointed out. "What are you then, if you're not human? An Ice Person? Are you their master?"

"Took you a while to figure that out, didn't it?" he chuckled. "No, I am not one of you. You are an inferior species, and I am not."

"Who are you?" I yelled. "What the hell do you want with us?" The man finally turned around to face me, his clothes being whipped  around by the ferocity of the wind, although he appeared completely un-phased  by this. He raised his head and I gasped, stumbling backwards until my back hit the frosty wall of the entrance to the cavern.

It couldn't be.

It wasn't possible.

He had been dead for almost one hundred and fifty years.

"You-you're..." I stammered. "You're Captain Scott..." I couldn't believe my eyes. The man that I had heard stories about for years, the man who had mounted one of the bravest expeditions I had ever known, the man who  I had studied and had been my inspiration for exploring, the man who was the brother of my great, great, great grandmother, he was just standing right in front of me.

There was a reason why I had never told anyone of my relation to Captain Scott. When I had first joined the I.N.R.I.A, I wanted to make my own name for being an explorer, a rescuer. There was nothing worse than living in the shadow of a great historically renowned relative. Only Pete and Christine knew, but we never really talked about it.

"How is this possible?" I asked, my voice trembling from shock. "You're dead. I know you're dead. They found your frozen body. What the hell are you?" Captain Scott chuckled to himself, stepping towards me.

"Captain Scott did not die in that tent, at least not straight away," he explained. "He was the last one alive when I found him. He was clinging to the edges of life; death was not far from him. I could have just left him, but I needed someone to pass as human. So I offered him a deal - he was desperate for help and I could give it to him.

"I would transfer his consciousness into myself. I morphed and adapted to have his face. By doing so, his consciousness is alive within me. I have all his knowledge of the world you call Earth."

"You stole his mind!" I shouted. "Whatever you are...you're a monster!" With lightning quick speed, Scott had moved from where he stood and was suddenly standing right in front of me. His gaze was menacing and he radiated  an unrelenting power which over-awed me into silence.

"Be careful what you say, Mr Mayhew," he hissed. "Scott gave me his mind willingly. The transition wouldn't have worked if he hadn't. So do not accuse me of being a monster when it was your great uncle's decision." I gulped , slightly nervous of how he knew of my relation to Captain Scott. But stood tall. I was in a dream. He couldn't hurt me.

"Why have you brought me here?" I asked. "What do you want with me?" Scott stepped back from me, but I noticed that his hands were frosting up, turning into solid ice.

"I'm afraid that my old friend, Captain Scott, has become rather tired," he said. "I have stretched his life for another one hundred and fifty of our Earth years, but there is only so much a fragile human mind can take. Scott's mind is old and the knowledge he carries is now useless. I need a new mind, a younger mind, one that has modern -day knowledge that I can use to further my cause."

"And you want me?" I asked. "Why me? Why not a general of an army? Or the high admiral?  The President even? I'm nothing much in this world?"

"I can only morph with someone with a certain genealogy,"  he said. "And you have Scott's genealogy. You are the only candidate, and once I have you, my Ice People will take all ships, attack all naval bases. Your world will be my, and then, I can go home with honour." I had no idea what he meant by going home with honour, but I was  much more concerned with his plan to use my mind and take over the world.

"I'm not giving you permission to use my mind!" I yelled. "I'm never going to let you use me!" He sighed, shaking his head.

"Well, then I guess I'm going to have to kill your little red head friend," he said. "What's her name? Christine Morgan, is it?" I snapped my head up, taking a step forward.

"You leave her out of this," I growled. "Let her go now!"  Scott laughed.

"I will," he said. "Once I have what I want.... from you!" The ground started shaking beneath my feet and chunks of ice were breaking off the cliff and tumbling into the churning waters below. I dropped to my knees in an effort to keep myself balanced.

"It's your choice, Mr Mayhew," he said. "You for Christine. I shall be waiting here. Don't disappoint me and don't take too long - my patience will wear thin."

 With one last glance at my surroundings, the cliff crumbled and I fell screaming and  plunged into the icy, black waters below.

***

"Matt!" Someone shouted. "Matt, wake up!" I gasped, sitting bolt right up in the tent. I quickly looked around me, sure that I was going to be on an ice cliff somewhere or in the sea trying to keep afloat. But I wasn't. I was safe in the tent...well, as safe as I could be in this mess.

Pete was sitting up next to me, looking extremely concerned and anxious. "Are you all right?" he asked me. "No offence, but you look a little crazy right now, that must have been one hell of a nightmare." Despite everything, I laughed bitterly.

"It wouldn't surprise me," I said quietly. Pete gave me a quizzical look, his eyebrows pinched together, increasing his concern.

"What's up, Matt?" he said slowly. "You look really shaken, and you were talking in your sleep. Something about Captain Scott? Why are you talking about your great uncle?" I leant forwards  elbows on my knees, running my hands through my hair. Should I tell Pete about the dream? Would he think I was insane?

"You're going to think I'm crazy," I told him hesitating. "But I think...I think I was just contacted by the Master of the Ice People in my dream." Pete looked at me, his jaw slack.

"Yeah, you were right," he said. "You are delusional." I groaned, putting my face in my hands.

"Not helping, Pete," I said. Pete put a hand on my shoulder.

"Look, I'm sorry," he said. "So tell me, what did it say?" I shook my head, trying to make sense of it myself.

"You're not going to believe me, but the Master has been around for a very long time," I explained. "You know Captain Scott's team was found dead? Well, my great uncle met this Master just before he died. He made a deal to transfer his consciousness to this creature so he could stay alive." Pete whistled.

"Wow," he said. "So your great uncle is still alive?"

"Sort of," I sighed. "His knowledge, his thoughts, it's all being used by the Master. But now..." I trailed off, swallowing hard.

"Now what?" Pete pressed.

"Now Scott's memories and knowledge are useless," I said. "The world has changed, and the Master needs a new mind. But he can't have just anyone. It only works with someone with the correct genealogy...my genealogy. He's offering Christine's life for mine." We were silent for a moment as Pete took this information in.

"What are you going to do?" he finally asked. I shook my head.

"I don't know," I whispered. "I can't let Christine die, but I refuse to be used to kill others too and God knows what else this Master has got in mind for our World. I just don't know." Pete nodded, crawling towards the tent door and zipping it open.

"Well, I guess we have to find them before they can kill her," he said. He began to crawl from the tent then froze, looking up to the sky.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Finding them might be a little easier than we first thought," he said, shock creeping into his voice.

"How?" When he didn't answer, I crawled out next to him and gaped up at the sky. In the distance, just over an snow drift, was a huge, bright beacon, shooting up into the sky.

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