The Winter Over(34)

Shaky laughter rippled through the group, but it was enough to pull everyone out of their downward slide. Crew members peeled off in twos and threes to head inside, led by Dave’s shambling form.

Biddi laced her arm in Cass’s and tugged her along to follow the others. “So you got to see it take off, at least. Glad you could make it, love.”

“I am, too,” Cass said, surprising herself. A small lump of anxiety made her stomach sour at the idea of hanging out with forty people, and she thought longingly of the Alpine and all the great work she could do on it, but . . . the snowmobile wasn’t moving anytime soon. It would be there tomorrow and the next day. The last day of summer, by definition, wouldn’t.

Their cohort made its way down to the galley, which was already buzzing. Buckets filled with Antarctic ice and bottles of cheap champagne decorated each table. People grabbed plastic cups and chatted noisily. Tinny seventies disco spilled out of a small speaker in the corner. Ceiling-and wall-mounted monitors, normally filled with endlessly scrolling weather and work reports, now looped graphical displays of exploding fireworks.

“Is it cake time, Petey?” Biddi called to Pete Ozment as they stood in the doorway watching the party.

“You betcha,” he said, slipping behind the counter and toward the kitchen door. “Grab a seat. I’ll be back out in a second. You’re not going to believe what’s coming your way!”

Cass scanned the crowd, looking for a friendly knot of people they could break into. For an event like the last day, the normal staffer versus scientist barriers melted away, but people still tended to flock to the group they knew the best, so the nerds in the astro crowd clung to each other while the fuelies—still reeking from off-loading fuel into Shackleton’s storage tanks—were bunched up in a corner, sipping from dirty coffee mugs and watching the others.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Biddi said, reaching out and snagging Jun Takahashi by a bird-thin arm as he shuffled toward the corner to join the astro group, no doubt the only people he knew on base. “You’ve got two beautiful women right here, ready to drink bubbly and indulge in an epic sugar rush, and you’re going to run off to a gaggle of beakers? I don’t think so.”

Cass grinned as someone else had become the target of Biddi’s social bullying. Jun, looking like he’d just swallowed an iceberg, allowed himself to be led by the hand to a table in the middle of the room where the action, such as it was, was thickest. Waving to get everyone’s attention—among others, Dave was already there, deep in conversation with Dr. Ayres, while Colin was nodding as he listened to something Carla was saying to him—Biddi led them all into shouting a greeting to Jun. Cass laughed as everyone at the table roared, “ Hi, Jun! ” The little astrophysicist looked ready to crawl inside himself and disappear. Then it was her turn and she could feel herself flush beet red as the table turned in her direction and bellowed, “ Hi, Cass! ”

Before she could die of embarrassment, Pete rolled a cart from the kitchen that held a sheet cake the size of a door. The partiers gathered around, oohing and aahing at the monstrous dessert, a masterpiece of creativity and limited resources. The icing was white, of course, with blue and gray highlights and shadows. Penguins and chirpy killer whales patrolled the outer rim, while in the center was a passable likeness of the old South Pole base, the geodesic dome that had been torn down to make way for the current station. Across the top, written in rainbow sprinkles, was the line “DOMED TO FAILURE . . .” A wave of laughter rolled through the crowd, replaced by a shriek as the first bottle of champagne was opened with a startling pop! and then everyone rushed for the remaining bottles as Pete started cutting the cake. Someone turned up the disco until it was louder than the Hercules had been.

Biddi pushed a plastic cup into Cass’s hand. “You’re on your own, love. I’m off to talk to Mr. Boychuck about his hose.”

“Biddi, my God.”

Her friend put a hand to her chest in feigned shock. “He’s a fuelie, Cass. I’m just interested in his job, is all. Though if he wants to show me any of his equipment , I can’t say I’ll stop him.” She winked and sashayed toward the seat next to Dave.

Cass found herself suddenly alone with Jun, who cradled his cup of champagne in the palm of his hand like it was a Fabergé egg. She turned to look at him, thinking that the little astrophysicist couldn’t be more of a stereotype. With the top of his head barely coming up as high as her chin, she had to look down to speak to him, which meant she got a bird’s-eye view. He was thin to the point of transparency, with a white polo shirt tucked into creased, unbelted department store jeans that, as small as they were, were still too big to keep his waist from swimming in them. The ensemble ended in a pair of tatty Keds sneakers, worn by elementary school kids everywhere.

“This is fun,” she said, thinking to start out simple.

Jun smiled and nodded, said nothing, and the conversation landed with a thump. When nothing else was forthcoming, she pivoted back to look out at the galley.

The sounds of the party swelled around them, but never strongly enough to pull them in, and they stood shoulder to shoulder in silence for more than a minute. Cass groped furiously for a topic, but the harder she tried, the blanker her mind became.

She finally cleared her throat and tried again. “I know you’re with the astrophysics department, but I’m not familiar with what you actually do here, Jun.”