The Winter Over(43)

“No.”

“You understand, also, that I have to tell him about this event. He may take the initiative to speak to you. Keene is allowed to conduct psych investigations that are beyond my purview to control. You can refuse to speak to him, but I don’t think that would be . . . wise.”

She closed her eyes, opened them, nodded.

He stopped speaking, as if considering something, then, “I would also ask you to keep this to yourself. Not to cover anything up. But let’s consider this from an extreme range of possibilities. On one hand, it could be a prank by somebody with a sick sense of humor, in which case making it public will just encourage them to do it again. Somebody will get stabbed eventually if he or she doesn’t stop.”

“And at the other end?”

He shrugged. “If someone was preparing to attack you, making it public knowledge would not only encourage them, it would tip them off that we’re watching.”

Cass felt something unclench inside her chest. Was this lip service? Or a modest effort to help her? Examining Hanratty’s face, it was impossible to tell. Residual aggravation from his early questions and the nagging sense he was just patronizing her still hung in the air, but at least he wasn’t throwing her out of his office.

“Is there anything else?” His tone indicated he didn’t think so.

“No.” She stood and had walked to the door when he stopped her.

“Jennings.”

She turned, but couldn’t bring herself to look at him. He waited until she’d raised her eyes to his. His face, normally severe, showed sympathy.

“You won’t believe it, but I’m on your side. More than you know.”

Cass had nothing to say. He nodded once, though, as if she had, and bent his head to look over a report open on his desk, dismissing her. As she left, she saw him reach for a single, white piece of paper from a stack on the corner of his desk.





CHAPTER EIGHTEEN


Cass looked out the narrow window, trying to imagine a world without light.

“It will be dramatic,” Anne explained, holding her hands wide, “but not like a light switch being thrown. Refractive light from the sun will continue to bounce off of the atmosphere for several hours after it goes over the horizon. That’s what makes sunsets so pretty, right? Same thing here. The big difference is that our sunset starts six months of night.”

A week earlier, the astrophysicists had reminded the crew that the last day the sun would be above the horizon, March 23, would be coming soon. Anne had offered to bring a telescope to the galley and lead a vigil of sorts to watch it go down. A small group had taken her up on her offer and were now gathered in the galley to grab coffee and peek through a filtered telescope. Cass had debated whether she wanted to take part or not, but finally joined the group to clear her head and take her mind off of recent events.

“So, it won’t get dark instantly?” Pete asked.

“No. In fact, it will be dusk for quite a while. Technically, there are three stages—civil, nautical, and astronomical twilight—to describe how far below the horizon the sun is. Back home, we’re used to seeing each stage occur with every sunset and sunrise. But here, since our day is actually measured in months, each twilight will be weeks long.”

“So, when will it be totally dark?” Cass asked.

“To our eyes, it will seem dark in just a week or two,” Anne said. “But officially? Astronomical twilight ends in early May. After that, there will be zero celestial illumination except that coming from stars, the moon, and the auroras. That’s when it will be dark dark.”

“And, if I remember right, you guys will still have to hump out to COBRA for work,” Tim said with a matter-of-fact tone. “When it’s pitch black out, the wind is howling, the temp is eighty below, et cetera and so on?”

“That’s right, Tim,” Anne said sweetly, scratching her nose with an extended middle finger. There were a few chuckles, then she looked down at her watch. “Oh, get your cameras ready, everyone. There may be a green flash as it sets, just like at the beach. You’ll only get one chance to snap a picture before it’s gone.”

The small crowd was quiet as they all turned to stare out the windows. Cass, the only one without a camera, sat at one of the windows, her chin resting on her forearms. She preferred to commit the vision to memory instead of being ruled by what she could see through a viewfinder. Watching it, thinking about it, focused her mind more than worrying if she had the correct exposure setting or filter enabled.

And it was a sight worth her attention. The sky was clear and blue, with only a few scudding clouds high in the sky that were no threat to their view. Something about the quality of light had turned the ice fields a deep indigo that set off the weak yellow rays to perfection. The sun itself hung in the air like a flare on the horizon, although it was smaller than she would’ve described it had she been asked, and it seemed faintly ridiculous to think the small golden disc could heat their planet.

“Get ready.” Anne’s head was bent to the eyepiece of her scope.

Almost as one, cameras were raised to faces. Cass blinked her eyes several times and stared at the sun. The orb didn’t appear to move at all, and then the rounded bottom was sheared off by the flat horizon as the sun ebbed downward. In a matter of a minute, the sun went from three-quarters, to half, to one-quarter full. Cass watched as its tip seemed to cling to the lip of the horizon, and then it slipped away. A small green sprite flashed just at the point of the sun’s departure, and then there was nothing.