Nicolai!, Hey, Nicolai! Get up and come with me, I want to show you something!

What? Do you want me to go outside? Are you crazy? It’s Antarctica for God sake! It’s 50 degree below zero!

Come on, man! Stop complaining! Go! Go!

Where are you dragging me, Louis? There is nothing there but snow. That freaking white snow. I am so sick of it.

You knew it was a crazy idea to winter in Antarctica from the very beginning, so shut up and come on! Move! Move!

Louis, please, don’t act like that jerk Carstens! It’s enough that we have one idiotic maniac here.

Carstens is the boss. All bosses are jerks! What else did you expect from him?

Listen, Louis, I told him that I am a professional zoologist, I know how that stuff is done, and he told me to shove my professional ambitions aside and go digging out the provision pack. I don’t think he can physiologically understand a word I say to him. How are guys like him getting to lead a scientific expedition? I would not trust him to look after a single penguin, needless to say a group of highly educated professionals.

He found forty thousand pounds for the expedition, you know. Those educated professionals would be only dreaming about Antarctica without that money.

True, but Holy Christ, who gives money to jerks like him? What are they? Complete morons?

Those guys are even worse than Carstens. The world is a bitch, but that’s the way it is. I’d say we just do our job in spite of all the bosses and money bags. You are a zoologist, Nicolai, then think of them as a kind of penguins.

Here we are, look!

Where? I don’t see anything.

There! Look straight! Open your eyes. See the light. It’s the sun! It’s there! Winter is over, spring is coming. The Southern Cross is on its way to pick us up.

We’re gonna make it! We are gonna make it!