'Because we've got some talking to do.'
The others trailed off in a line of orange, looking curiously back at the remaining trio and the forlorn shack. Once they were back, their galley would buzz with speculation like a disturbed hive. Cameron, Lewis, and Norse watched until the others disappeared inside and then fetched a wooden beam from the cargo area to batter down the shed door. The ram made a dull, booming echo in the dusky morning, like the dirge of a bell. Finally the ice shattered in a spray like broken glass and the door burst inward.
Adams's last moments were heartbreaking. He must have stumbled inside in exhaustion, seeking a temporary refuge from the mind-deadening wind. The shack was insulated but had no heat. Eventually Harrison would have realized that he was still in subzero cold and had to start again for the dome, but when he tried to go back out the astronomer was frozen in. He'd have butted and kicked and screamed but no one knew where he was; no one could hear him above the howl of the wind. Eventually he must have panicked. With superhuman energy he'd somehow managed to rip up one of the plywood sections that formed the shack's crude floor, nails shattering in the cold. He'd sliced the nylon arm of his parka in the process and scraped his wrist. The floor was dotted with droplets of frozen blood. Then he'd burrowed, throwing a small heap of snow to one side of the room as he tried to dig his way out of his cold trap. The ice was too close to the surface to allow him to squeeze his way out. At some point he'd stopped, from exhaustion or defeat, helpless in a spasm of shivering, and then he'd fallen asleep as his core temperature plunged. Pain, and then no pain. At least his eyes were closed.
'I thought he took a radio,' Norse said.
Cameron searched for one.
Adams had it in his pocket but its battery was dead. Someone had failed to recharge it. The astronomer probably hadn't checked.
'It looks like someone broke the heat tape,' Lewis said dully.
'Cut it,' Cameron said.
'What tape?' Norse asked.
Cameron pointed to the orange cord around the door. 'You've seen these to keep the doorjambs from freezing?' He pointed to a dial at the bottom of the door. 'Adams, or someone, cranked this tape way too high. It would have created a Niagara of meltwater around this jamb. Then the tape broke or was cut.'
'I don't get it.'
'If you wanted to seal someone inside an unheated shack at the height of a blizzard, that would be the way to do it. Melt some water, get the doorway wet, and then cut the heat off. The door would freeze as if it were welded.' He looked at the other two.
'You're saying someone trapped him?'
'I'm saying I don't know how the hell else that tape broke.'
'Maybe it was just an accident,' Norse said. 'Everything's brittle in the cold.'
'Like Mickey.'
'Yes. Two accidents.'
'And what kind of luck is that?' Cameron's tone was bitter.
'Sometimes random chance clusters. You're a scientist and you know that. Unfortunately, the cluster fell on your watch. I'll be the first to testify you did all you can.'
'Testify? At my trial?' The station manager gave a sharp laugh. 'At my funeral?'
'I just mean when NSF asks questions about this. You've had bad luck, Rod.'
'Jesus. One storm and I'm down two beakers. Is that some kind of record, or what?'
'Mickey didn't die in the storm.'
'No, I lost him in clear weather. Christ Almighty. I wish I was the one who was dead.' He looked gloomily down at Adams. 'Can't someone pull his fucking neck gaiter up over his face so I don't have to look at him?'
Stooping, Lewis did so.
'Accident my ass.'
'If it wasn't an accident, then why?' Norse asked.
Cameron looked grimly at Lewis. 'That's the question, isn't it? Jed, why was Adams coming to see you in Clean Air?'
'I don't know. It's not like we were buddies.'
'Why did you leave Clean Air after I told you not to?'
'To help find him! I couldn't last out that storm, I'd starve. I thought I'd meet him coming back to the dome. It was stupid to tell me to stay out there, Rod. I should have left before I did.'
'Did you see Harrison in the storm?'
'No, of course not.'
'But you saw Tyson.'
'He saw me.'
'You were riding with him. Tyson and you, together. The guy who doesn't like Adams.'
'The guy who doesn't like anybody,' Lewis said in exasperation. 'Look, I had nothing to do with this! I couldn't even get from Clean Air to the dome! I would have frozen myself if Tyson hadn't found me. You know that. You saw what condition I was in. And I didn't have time to wander clear over here. If anything, the storm proves I'm innocent.' He looked expectantly. 'Right?'
'It proves you're the one person who knew where the body was.'
'I guessed. Why would I go find the body if I killed him?'
'To make sure he's dead?'
That one crossed the line. 'Fuck you.'
The station manager looked at the new man with frank dislike. 'Why are you always in the middle of things?'
'Because everyone else always puts me there!' He pointed to Norse. 'Why don't you question Bob? He was out, too! Where the hell was he?'
'I know that,' Cameron said quietly. 'That's why I asked for both of you to stay here with me, to hash this out.' He turned to Norse. 'Did you see Harrison?'
'I already told you I did, at astronomy. I left just ahead of the storm. I got back before Lewis did. Adams was going to follow shortly.'
'Were the flags intact?'
'They were when I passed them.'
'So what do you think happened?'
Norse looked down at the frozen astronomer. 'Why not bad luck? A flag blows away, Adams gets lost, finds the shack, the cord somehow fails on its own. It's almost broken through, Adams cranks it too high, the wind catches it…' He considered. 'Or not. Look. The only one with any true mobility was Tyson, on the snowmobile.'
'Do you think he…'
'I did see them arguing in the weight room,' Lewis said, and then instantly regretted having said it. He was doing to Tyson what Cameron was trying to do to him. 'But not anything that would lead to this.'
'Well, I damn well want to know what would lead to this!' the station manager suddenly shouted in frustration. 'I want to know who's ruining my winter! This isn't fair, dammit! I'm sick of you, and I'm sick of Buck, and I'm sick of this damn job!'
'Rod!' Norse snapped crisply. 'Rod, Rod. Cool it.' His voice was admonitory. 'Talk like that and you'll throw everyone in a panic. This is a time for leadership, not accusations. Rationality, not wild suspicion. Maybe it is all accidental. Certainly it's all circumstantial. We've got a small group and a lot of concern right now, even fear, consternation, sorrow, you name it. People will be feeding off each other. We've got to get them to the point of feeding strength, not weakness.'
Cameron looked utterly depressed. 'How do we do that?'
'First of all, you are the man. The man. Man of the hour. Everyone's looking to you for cues on how to respond. You've got to seem confident, unafraid, in charge. Get it together.' Norse looked concerned.
The station manager took a deep breath. 'I know. But to lose two of our top scientists, and then this bonehead here'-he nodded to Lewis- 'wandering off in the storm… it's just hard, Doc. It's like being in the Navy and grounding a ship. They don't want to hear excuses. You just don't run aground.'
'And when you do, you don't surrender. Listen, this is what the station is about. This is what our winter is
