“The shadowy fuel arch gave her the creeps, this dank tunnel that stank of petroleum and was so dimly lit. Accordingly, she started down the shadowy steel-roofed tunnel that held the station's petroleum supply with exasperated reluctance. Where the bloody hell was Rod Cameron? Since coming upon the stiff, reaching hand of Harrison Adams, Dana had become more and more of a dome slug, clinging to the light and warmth of the galley and berthing floors like a child retreating to a bedroom. The winte...r was not beginning at all like she'd hoped. Thanks to Mickey's meteorite the station team seemed rent by suspicions and rivalries. Two deaths and the increasingly bizarre behavior of Mr. James "Buck" Tyson had smashed through the serenity she'd sought like a bus through a window. In reaction, Dana spent what time she could under the grow lights in the station greenhouse, helping Lena tend the hydroponic plants and trying to fight her own impending depression. God, it was claustrophobic here! Her work on polar atmospheric circulation was lagging to the point where she might not gain the tenure at the University of Auckland that she'd hoped to achieve by wintering at the Pole.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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