"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 about. Leadership! The ability of the individual to define the group! You're the keystone. The pivot. The rock."
Cameron closed his eyes. "Some rock." He thought a minute, his chest rising and falling, and then opened his eyes. "I know I've got to get my shit together," he said tiredly. "It's just a little much to take."
"It's a little much for everyone to take. That's why we need you."
He grimaced at his own explosion. "It's lonely at the top," he recited wryly.
"Everyone's alone. That's life."
"Okay." He took a breath. "Okay, okay. Listen. I'm going to ask NSF to send an investigator down here. They sent the FBI to McMurdo once. Maybe they can send somebody here."
Norse was surprised. "A cop?"
"I thought planes couldn't get in here," Lewis said. "If they can, I'm ready to go home."
"There's an outside chance for at least an airdrop," Cameron said. "They've done them in winter before. We've definitely got an emergency here. Maybe they can parachute somebody in. Somebody with a weapon and authority. Someone who knows what to do."
"That might be overreacting, Rod," Norse said.
"Overreacting? With two dead bodies?"
"Two accidents, until we learn otherwise. You put a cop in here and it becomes two victims. You define the problem in the worst possible light. You put your own stewardship in the worst possible light. And nobody will get any work done."
"Bullshit." He pointed at Norse. "Maybe they'll begin by investigating you."
The psychologist sighed. "I'd recommend it, actually, if you don't want to spook everyone else and screw up the whole winter. Concentrate on me."
"Is that a confession?" He was sour.
"Think about it. Suppose you get your G-man. He parachutes in and interrogates me. Or Lewis. Or Tyson. People are freaked out. A small group like this can turn on a person and make his life miserable. I've read about it. I've seen it. And then you've got somebody under a cloud, preoccupying everyone, until spring. What are you going to do with them for the rest of the winter? How does anyone get any work done? I think we need to calm things down, not hype them up. And NSF is going to go ballistic if you turn an accident into a murder investigation. If you really need a fall guy, make it me. I'm not doing physical science. I'm not worried about what they might ask."
"I'm not looking for a fall guy! I'm looking to keep things under some kind of control! What do you suggest, Doctor Freud?"
"Just that we all cool off for a day or two. That we don't panic the bureaucrats in D.C. for a day or two. If one of us is a murderer… well, we're not going anywhere. We chill, and separate, and wait."
"What does that mean?" Lewis asked.
"Quarantine, Jed. There's going to be a lot of gossip and speculation about this, it's inevitable. Especially with you finding the body, after the e-mail to Mickey. I think you should stay out in Clean Air for a while longer, this time with a sleeping bag. We'll bring you your meals. You can collect your data for Sparco and be… safe."