Going Back Cold

by Kelley Rose Waller

  “Just me, working on Ana’s thesis idea.”

  “Ana’s thesis idea? What’s that? Wait, never mind. Tell me tomorrow. I've decided to play hooky from work after a crappy day.”

  “That's out of character, Dr. Whyse,” he said with a smile in his voice.

  “Maybe, but I'm sorry about earlier, babe,” she said. “Want to have a movie date?”

  “Great!” Lucas said. “Anything but sci-fi.”

  Chapter 70

  MILO Personal Dictation: Cheyenne Marx

  Only Jane. She’s seems to be endlessly resourceful.

  Feels good to be back on the right track again. I know they were supposed to have two more launches, but one is better than none. Seeing their relieved faces today and hearing laughter at dinner made me realize how bad things had really gotten around here.

  As the Colonel said, “Finally, another checkmark in the success column.”

  They’d all pored over the blueprints ten thousand times, but Jane dissected Semotus literally down to its component parts and discovered what was causing a fault with the sensors and everything else. They were wet! Well, damp or at least humid. She explained it to me… something about everything became an adiabatic process versus an isothermal process because a vent in the launch bay was connected to MILO’s central ventilation system. The vent should have completed the sealed vacuum chamber and only been available to open in case of emergency, but it was allowing in some moisture from our humidified air when the pressure from the launch reached a certain point.

  So it wasn’t anything wrong with the science team, but a random issue with the actual base design. Who would’ve thought?

  Well, only Jane. Like I said.

  So basically, the metallurgists spent three weeks building a work-around for the vent, Colonel Edwards flipped out on the Antarctic building contractor whose less-than-ideal work lost like half a billion dollars somewhere in space, and now we’re off and running again.

  We’ll just ride out these last six days after averaging a victorious season overall. A 2-1, win-loss record is still respectable.

  Chapter 71

  “Ana, do you need any help?” Ian asked, peeking his head into her room that they shared when he was on the base.

  “No, this is the only bag left,” Ana replied, holding up a small duffle. “I just have to wait for the confirmation on the data back-up before I am officially closed out for the season. MILO, how much longer?”

  “The back-up will be completed in two minutes,” the wall replied.

  “So, how long after you get home do you stop talking to the walls and expecting a response?” Ian asked, looking around.

  “Not too long, you just have to transition to, ‘Hey Siri’ instead of ‘Hey MILO,’” Ana said. “She has all the answers, too. Everywhere but here.”

  “Ok, Dám’s all checked out, so we were going to grab a family photo of our last day,” he said.

  “Ok,” she agreed. “I’ll be right there. Just waiting for the beep.”

  Ian gave her a thumbs-up as he left. He walked down the hallway, leaning into the school room.

  “How you doing in here?” he asked Candace. “Can I help with anything?”

  “Actually, yes,” she replied. “If you don’t mind, those boxes have to go down to storage. Don’t tell Hal, though.”

  “Hal?”

  “Because he’ll tell Cheyenne, and she’d redo the year-end inventory to keep it official,” Candace said.

  “Why not just tell me not to tell Cheyenne?” Ian asked.

  “Because I don’t see you and Cheyenne making small talk, and you do with Hal,” she replied. “Plus, now we have both bases covered. Don’t tattle on me, McDell! Semotus Dome needs a little rule-bending, and I’m starting the revolution with three uncatalogued boxes of medical supplies.”

  “Check!” Ian said with a friendly salute.

  He wandered down to the storage with his arms full, passing Bonnie who fortunately was distracted by her heated (albeit one-way) discussion directed at some of the base’s rookie crewmen.

  I wonder if they’ll be back next season, Ian mused to himself.

  Arriving at the storage space, he looked for an inconspicuous place to add boxes. He wanted to be sure that a quick glance in the room wouldn’t be enough to alert Cheyenne that something had changed. Settling for a position behind a similar stack of boxes, he deposited his cargo and walked out, closing the door behind him.

  “Hey, Doc, you got a sec?” a voice called.

  Ian turned to see the pilot, Peter, with his hands full.

  “Sure, what’s up?” Ian asked.

  “Can you open the door back up again?” Peter asked. “I want to store these flight suits, and Bonnie’s giving everybody crap for keeping anything in their bedrooms since the roster for next year isn’t settled and blah blah blah.”

  “Sure, no problem,” Ian said, chuckling to himself when Peter merely flopped them inside the door and kicked a sleeve out of the way so the hinge would close.

  So much for hoping no one notices some extra stuff, he mused.

  “Thanks, man. Anything else to go?” the pilot asked.

  “Not that I know of,” Ian replied. “I was just doing the rounds to see if anybody else needed stuff carried.”

  “I’d come with you, but I’ve gotta run pre-flight,” Peter said. “Can’t warm up the chopper until everybody’s checked out, though, because we’re down to our last tank of fuel.”

  “Really?” Ian asked, cocking his head. “That strikes me as iffy.”

  “Well, we don’t want to leave fuel here unattended during the Antarctic winter, and we don’t like transporting additional fuel in a bird full of people.”

  “And kids, right, yes, that makes sense,” Ian said, trying to look reassured.

  “Don’t worry, Doc, we won’t run out of gas in mid-air,” Peter said and both men smiled. “See you for the ride.”

  Ian was walking back to find Ana for their family photo when Lucas stepped out of his lab. He reached out and tapped Ian on the shoulder, saying, “You’re it.”

  “It? It for what?” Ian asked.

  “I decided I was going to make whoever I saw first help carry the rest of my stuff.”

  “What if it had been Sebbie or Dám?” Ian asked.

  “You’re right; they’d never have managed,” Lucas said. He walked back to a fridge, opened it up, and handed Ian a beer, taking the last one for himself.

  “Can’t leave this here; it’s against regulations. We’re going to have to off-load it in some manner.”

  “I can help with that,” Ian said with a smile, opening his beer and settling into a nearby desk chair.

  “You’re off-duty, right?” Lucas asked.

  “I don’t think I’m ever off-duty, no, but Candace is here, and the winter med staff is already checked in at MacTown.”

  “Good enough for me,” Lucas said, taking a swallow and closing his eyes. “So, what did you think of your first year?”

  “Not bad, overall,” Ian replied. “A big learning curve, but I wouldn’t trade time with my girls for anything.”

  “I get that,” Lucas said. “We’re lucky men, aren’t we?”

  “Here’s to brilliant wives, for sure, and good kids,” Ian said, reaching out his can, which Lucas tapped with his own.

  “And to success for Split Horizon in the future,” Lucas added.

  “Are you feeling hopeful?” Ian asked.

  “Mildly,” Lucas replied. “It’s not going to be easy, though. There’s a lot we’re still learning. But your wife’s creativity might save the day.”

  “Sounds like you’re facing quite a mystery,” Ian said.

  Lucas was quiet for a moment at the truth of the statement.

  “Yes and no,” he finally said. “It’s a mystery, but at the same time, it isn’t surprising.”

  “Travel at these speeds?” Ian asked.

  “More than that,” Lucas said. “Science. Science does
n’t surprise me because I know the Creator.”

  “That’s a big perspective.”

  “I guess,” Lucas replied. “But it’s the only one that makes sense for me. The deeper you get into this stuff, the more obvious God becomes.”

  “You’re preaching to the choir,” Ian said. “I don’t understand medical doctors who see the things we see and don’t see God.”

  “Really? I feel like I always hear the opposite of medical people,” Lucas said. “Like, a doctor who sees a nice mother die in an accident while some monster of a man recovers from cancer, so the doctor stops believing in God because he can’t justify that a higher power would allow that.”

  “It’s tough, of course, I mean, just look at Riddhi,” Ian said. “She’s a hard worker, but something went wrong and her whole season, not to mention nearly her life… gone. And yet, that doesn’t change who God is. I mean, you know what you believe, and that’s the bedrock. And if you’re really sold out to that belief, the circumstances don’t matter. You can face anything and still say ‘nothing has changed, God is who he is.’”

  “Nothing has changed even if everything has,” Lucas said. “Jane and I talk about that all the time.”

  Ian sat forward thoughtfully and took another drink. “How are you guys doing? Two years since your stillbirth, right?”

  “Almost two, yes,” Lucas said leaning back. “We were 27 weeks along going home, so the anniversary’s coming up.”

  “Do you regret coming back?”

  Lucas shook his head. “I only regret the time I wish I’d had with her, the memories we would have made together. I don’t regret anything else. It’s… just one of those things.”

  His eyes got hot as he spoke, and he looked away.

  Ian reached over and clapped him gently on the shoulder. “I know it isn’t easy. You’re doing the right thing with your family, Lucas. With Sebastian, and with Jane.”

  “By having a beer before lunch like a true gentleman?” Lucas said, raising the can in his hand.

  “Come on, you know what I mean,” Ian said with a smile.

  “I do, and thanks,” Lucas said. “Sometimes I just wish Jane and I could be on the same page about things.”

  “Anything specific?” Ian asked.

  “Not really, we’ve just processed this whole thing differently from the beginning, and we’re always trying to meet in the middle with… I don’t know the ‘healing process’ or whatever. Trying not to rush each other, but still keep up,” Lucas said.

  Ian nodded and waited.

  “One day, I think things are good,” Lucas continued, “but suddenly then, she has that glassy stare she gets when she’s thinking of Emily, and I’m fighting frustration because I don’t know what tipped her off. Is it even ok for her to still be this angry at God? Like if we know the character of God, why can all her faith go out the window just because God’s plan was not our plan? Where is the line between sadness and selfishness? Doesn’t God guarantee we’ll face suffering in our lives? And as smart as she is, as devout as her faith is—or maybe was… I mean, no one get out of life on earth alive, right? Death is ugly but natural.”

  “It sure is complicated,” Ian said, shaking his head in empathy.

  “Sorry, I don’t usually talk about her like this, but this place… it’s like this is where we knew her, but now we only have one more year to go back,” Lucas said.

  “Come back,” Ian corrected, looking around at the locked-up lab.

  “What? Right,” Lucas said, suddenly standing up and emptying the last few drops of his beer. “That’s what I meant. It's a four-year timeline. Next season’s it. We either do it, or we don’t.”

  YEAR FOUR

  Semotus Base, Victoria Land, Antarctica

  Personnel Roster

  December 5, 2025

  SCIENCE TEAM

  Dr. Bonnie Chapman . . . . . . . . . project leader, physicist

  Dr. Jane Whyse . . . . . . . . . physicist

  Dr. Lucas Whyse . . . . . . . . . chemist, crystallographer

  Dr. Ana McDell . . . . . . . . . physicist

  Dr. Richard Chapman . . . . . . . . . engineering lead

  Julie Reidenbaugh

  and James Gregg . . . . . . . . . engineering assistants

  Dr. Riddhi Bidell . . . . . . . . . experimental metallurgist

  Dr. Ruth Witmer . . . . . . . . . meteorologist

  Fifteen lab technicians

  SUPPORT STAFF

  Pilots Hal Turner,

  Simeon Sokolov,

  and Peter Young . . . . . . . . . transportation and maintenance

  Cheyenne Marx . . . . . . . . . base administrator

  Candace Hartwell . . . . . . . . . nurse practitioner and tutor

  Dr. Ian McDell . . . . . . . . . medical doctor

  Chandler Smith . . . . . . . . . journalist

  Two security specialists

  One housekeeping / kitchen manager

  OTHER

  Sebastian Whyse, age 6

  Dámaris McDell, age 13

  36 Total Base Occupants // Four-month season

  Respectfully Submitted,

  Colonel Keith Edwards, Supervisor, Project Split Horizon

  Department of Defense Liaison

  NASA Science Mission Directorate

  Chapter 72

  “There it is!” six-year-old Sebastian called, his nose pressed against the helicopter window. “I see The Dome!”

  Jane smiled and clicked the laptop shut.

  “How were you possibly getting anything done?” Candace asked. “I feel like my brains are getting rattled every time I’m in a chopper.”

  “That’s flattering, honey,” Hal’s voice said from the front seat.

  “Sorry, Hal!” Candace called. “Didn’t know you were listening. It isn’t you; I just don’t like flying if I'm not in an airplane.”

  Hal smiled and gave a thumbs up as he circled the area once to give his passengers a good view of the base which was expanded once again.

  “There’s the new meteorology lab for Dr. Witmer,” Cheyenne said, pointing to a mobile pod parked near one of the base’s exterior doors and connected by plastic tubing that looked like it belonged in a science fiction movie. “And there’s the new crew quarters and bathrooms,” she added, pointing to a smaller wing added to the back of the base.

  “Wow, how long have you and the advance team been here?” Lucas asked.

  “Just ten days,” Cheyenne replied. “The mobile pod’s borrowed from MacTown and the construction is all pre-fab. We pretty much just had to hook all the pieces together and plug them in.”

  “And hook all the vents up right,” Lucas teased.

  “Oh, sure, this time,” she said, pointing at Jane with a wink.

  “What’ll they do with it when Split Horizon’s done at the end of the season?” Candace asked.

  “I haven’t heard,” Cheyenne replied.

  “Me neither,” Jane said. “Maybe repurpose a lot of it for MacTown. Or another project will get the base.”

  “Who’d ever want to come to Antarctica?” Lucas teased.

  “Me!” Sebastian immediately volunteered, making everyone smile.

  “Apparently so would that reporter,” Candace said, referencing Chandler Smith, the journalist they’d been required to bring. He was coming on another bird with Simeon, the Chapmans, and the McDells, while Peter was bringing in load after load of support personnel and supplies for the second day in a row.

  “Have you read his blog?” Lucas asked. “He’s pretty funny.”

  “Sure, I’ve seen it,” Candace said. “I just know why I came down here a couple times, so I’m quick to judge anyone else for their escape motivations.”

  “Maybe,” Jane said. “I just hope he wants to play nice. I mean, we have to be able to do our work without him looking over our shoulders, right?”

  Cheyenne shrugged. “I’m sure he has a protocol from Edwards to follow,” she said. “The Colonel wouldn’t have s
ent him down here to sabotage your work.”

  “Right,” Candace said, “Because we already have Bonnie to do that.”

  Jane rolled her eyes and chuckled, but inside, she almost agreed. It did feel like she’d been in a boxing ring the whole off-season, fighting for every inch of progress. And on my own project! she thought.

  “How soon after we land is the first launch going?” Hal asked.

  “Six minutes,” Lucas answered before anyone else, eliciting smiles from everyone as he looked at his watch with a furrowed brow.

  “Oh, boy,” Jane said. “The schedule says three weeks, Hal. Could be a little sooner if Mr. Diamonds-are-a-girl’s-best-friend here has his quartz garden growing ahead of schedule.”

  Hal tapped the side of his headset and put up a single finger to indicate that he was now concentrating on the landing. The group settled back into their seats quietly.

  “I thought you liked my present,” Lucas said in Jane’s ear as she leaned back into his shoulder.

  “You know I do,” Jane said, as she held up her hand and watched the southern sun flicker against the giant diamond he’d lab-created for their anniversary. “Some wives get lopsided bookcases or overdone steaks when their husband makes them something. I get a three-carat diamond. I’m very spoiled!”

  “It’s not just any diamond, though, Jane,” Lucas reminded her. “It’s 100% carbon and has the exact same chemical, optical, and physical properties as a mined diamond.”

  Jane winked at him. “I love it when you talk science to me, Dr. Whyse.”

  “Well, not every man is as lucky as I,” he said, leaning his head against hers.

  “And not every man has access to a depressurizing chamber to set up chemical vapor deposition at 2000 degrees,” she added, making her husband laugh.

  “Is this part monkey metal?” Sebbie asked, pointing to the setting.

  “No, sweetie,” Jane said. “If it was, it might chop my finger off outside! Monkey metal’s way too responsive to temperature.”

  “Dr. Riddhi did help design the setting, though,” Lucas told Sebbie.