'Okay,' Norse went on, 'I've contacted the National Science Foundation about our situation down here and I've asked Abby- at their request- to hold off on other e-mail or communication to the outside world for a while. We're going to keep this in-family.'
'No!' Gabriella protested. 'I want to talk to my friends!' There was a rolling murmur of support and anxiety. Nothing was more important than their electronic link.
The psychologist nodded again. He never disagreed. 'You're right. Communication is what we need above all else. That's why we're talking now. And we'll reestablish contact to the outside world as soon as we can. But this is an explosive situation and people are trying to get a handle on it. We've got some circumstantial evidence, a volatile mechanic who's disappeared, and laws that say he's innocent until proven guilty. The folks back in D.C. need some time to sort this out and consider what our options are.' He hesitated. 'It was Rod's idea after Adams was found to ask them to send help down, like the FBI agents that went into McMurdo a few years back to pick up that cook who flew off the handle. I'll confess I talked him out of it as premature. I thought it would hurt his career. Maybe I was wrong. But even then it was too late to get a plane to actually land. It's winter, the runway is shut down, and the Guard crews who fly are long gone. It's dangerous to fly. It makes no sense to risk more lives if there's any other alternative.'
'There is no alternative!' Dana Andrews shouted.
'Yes, let's open the damn runway!' astronomer Carl Mendoza agreed. 'Get out the bulldozers! We'll figure them out without Buck. Plow without Buck. Put flame pots and flares out without Buck. We have to ship Tyson out of here before we lose the whole winter.'
Norse kept nodding. 'Absolutely. We're going to look at every possibility. But right now NSF is asking us for three things. First, no panic. Okay? No panic. We have to keep a clear head. Second, no yelling to the world over satellite. And third, no rashness, nothing that will stain the reputation of the station in the future. Think! This is what you trained for. This is what you're paid for. Keeping things together, keeping it going. Okay? Can we lower the temperature here?' He waited for a response.
'Chill out,' Hiro Sakura finally said. 'It is easy to do at the South Pole.' There was strained laughter at his thickly accented observation, a slight release of tension.
Norse smiled slightly, gratified at the help. 'Okay. Now, what do we know? Dana found Rod's body with a stab wound. Someone had put toast on Buck's door, and the same kind of toast was in Rod's mouth. And Tyson's disappeared. It looks bad, but that doesn't mean we can be certain he's a murderer.'
'Bullshit,' said Pulaski. 'We're certain he's a slug-eating, shower-hogging, work-shirking sonofabitch who's deliberately tried to scare the crap out of just about everyone in this room! Why not a murderer?'
'The bastard had it in for Rod from the beginning,' added Mendoza. 'He did nothing but complain and threaten. We all saw them almost get into a fistfight. He had it in for Harrison, too, and he was out the day Adams died. Him and Lewis.'
'We all know Buck carried a chip on his shoulder,' Norse cautioned. 'We don't know he snapped.'
'We have Mickey's death as well,' Pulaski reminded. 'Tyson didn't like him, either.'
'Yes,' Nancy Hodge chimed in. 'Which could mean that Rod learned something about those deaths that the killer didn't want discovered. He panics, they fight…' She shrugged. 'It could happen.'
'It did happen.' Alexi Molotov stood up. 'Listen, Doctor Bob, I appreciate your efforts to keep things as, what you say, sensible. We are scientists, that is how it should be. But we have had three deaths. Three deaths! In our tiny group! And now this angry mechanic who makes knives is hiding somewhere and we have no weapons and maybe no chance of help from the outside world.' He looked at them expectantly.
'What are you saying, Alexi?' Norse asked quietly.
'That we hunt him down before he hunts us. Like the Russian wolf.'
'Hunt him down?'
'String him up,' Geller said, only half jokingly. 'First tree we find.'
'No, we are not executioners,' Molotov said. 'Let your authorities investigate when they can, but you are right, it will not be until spring. In the meantime, he has to be quarantined, confined, so the rest of us feel safe.'
'Like Lewis was.'
'Like Lewis still should be,' Dana said. Lewis wasn't there, having been ordered to stay out at Clear Air for his own safety. 'I don't trust him, either. He's the one who started all this.'
'That's unfair,' Abby said, coming to his defense. 'He's just new.'
'You're sweet on him, Ice Cream, but he gives the rest of us the willies. Besides, where was he when Cameron died? I heard he was on the squawk box setting up a meeting with our dead leader.'
'Yes,' Molotov said. 'He radioed. We heard it.'
'Right,' Abby retorted. 'And if he was going to knife him, would he broadcast a rendezvous?' She was angry. 'Where were you, Dana? In the arch with the victim, as I understand it. Maybe you killed him, and made it look like Tyson.'
'That is so completely out of bounds…'
'Enough!' Norse raised his hands. 'Enough, enough, enough. Let's deal with Mr. Lewis later. He stays in Clean Air until we sort this out.'
'How can we sort it out when he's never here to defend himself?' Abby protested.
Norse ignored her. 'We think we have our killer, so let's not go off the deep end pointing fingers at others. The problem is Buck. The issue is Buck. Where can we keep him when we catch him?'
'That's the problem,' Calhoun spoke up. As the other station carpenter, he was one of the most familiar with the construction of the station. 'This base has no real locks worthy of the name. You can pry apart most of the walls with a can opener. The habitable parts he could break out of, I'll bet. We could bolt and weld some kind of coop, but how to heat it, plumb it, feed him? Jails are complicated.'
'How about sticking him out in Bedrock?' suggested Geller. Bedrock Village was the nickname of the station's emergency shelter Quonset huts, called Hypertats. They were a bright blue cluster several hundred yards from the dome with their own generator. 'Put him at a distance, like Lewis.'
'And how do we keep him out there?' asked Calhoun.
'Guard him.'
'How? He's so big you'd need at least two of us, both men, three shifts a day, seven days a week- come on! We can't lock him and we can't guard him and we can't feed him. Unless we want to spend the rest of the winter just doing that.'
'The only practical solution is to ship him out of here, Robert.' It was Nancy Hodge, and it was odd to hear her call Norse by his formal first name.
For the first time, Norse looked mildly exasperated. 'They can't land a plane, it's too cold. Anything below minus fifty-five and the hydraulics freeze up. You know that.'
'We know we're facing the worst emergency this base has ever encountered and we need something done before we all go nuts. Doctor.'
Norse looked annoyed. He didn't like criticism from another professional. The others shifted uncomfortably.
'There's one other solution, of course,' Pulaski said grimly. 'We try him, and do to him what he did to Rod Cameron.'
'Fuckin' A,' Geller said.
'No way!' Linda Brown protested. 'Wade'-her tone was scolding- 'we're not executioners. We have no legal authority. We have no moral authority.'
'We do when our lives are at stake,' the cook said quietly. There was no reply. Pulaski looked dangerous, the old soldier. 'Sometimes it's you or him. Kill or be killed.'
'Whoa. Come on, people.' Norse raised his hands again, wearily. 'Let's not go off the deep end. Cueball, I understand your feelings but try to keep them in check.'
'Just don't go off by yourself,' Pulaski told the others with a growl. 'Not until we find the bastard.'
Norse nodded. 'Okay. Good advice. Stay together. Stay alert. But before we go on a manhunt let me talk to NSF. It's off-hours in D.C. now but I'll call when I can. I'll stress the dire nature of our situation again. Maybe they can find a break in the weather to somehow parachute an agent in here.'
There was cautious hope.
