The Winter Over(73)

“Oh, my Jesus Christ.” Cass almost cried at seeing the familiar moon face. “How glad am I to see you?”

“Loads and loads, I hope,” her friend said, coming into the room and shutting the door behind her quietly. She gave Cass a hug, holding her at arm’s length and looking her over. “You’re keeping well.”

“Jokes? At a time like this?”

Biddi motioned for them to sit on the edge of the bed. “Is there a better time? The bloody world—by which I mean our little microcosm of said here at the South Pole—has gone barking mad. If you can’t laugh now, there’s no hope for you. And, look, they even installed you in the VIP suite. The last person to grace this room was a senator.”

“It’s because it has its own bathroom,” Cass said bitterly. “Not because they want to treat me well.”

“Oh, well. At least it has a queen-sized bed, love.”

Cass sighed. Lovable, unflappable Biddi. But what she needed was information, not a cheerleader. “So, nothing’s changed? They’re not letting me out?”

A look of sympathy said it all. Cass’s heart sank, but it had been a forlorn hope to begin with. Hanratty wouldn’t have sent Biddi to spring her if they’d changed their mind—he would’ve done it himself or sent Taylor or Deb to do it—but she’d had a wild hope that that’s why her friend had showed up.

“So, what are you doing here, Biddi? Not that I’m ungrateful. You’re just taking a risk, is all.”

Her friend jerked a thumb behind her to indicate the rest of the station. “Mr. High and Mighty pulled everyone together for another one of his helpful all-hands meetings in the gym. I listened to the first half then snuck out, recognizing that it was the perfect time to come visit my fellow janitor. The only time, really.”

“No one knows you’re here? How’d you get in?”

Biddi looked at her with pity. “Love, we’re janitors. The first day I came down, I made sure they gave me the keys to every door in the building. Never heard of a master key?”

Cass laughed despite herself. “You’re shitting me. Any chance you could, say, lend me that key for a minute?”

Biddi shook her head. “I’m afraid not. Not because I don’t want to, Cassie, but because . . . where would you go? This place is as good as Alcatraz. Better, really.”

“It would just be nice to have some freedom back.” The mania subsided, replaced by a black anger. “Those fuckers drugged me.”

Biddi’s mouth made an “o” of shock. “I should’ve guessed they would need to do something that extreme to toss you in the hoosegow, but I never imagined they’d actually go through with something so . . . wrong.”

Cass put a hand to her forehead. “I don’t even know how long I’ve been locked up.”

“You don’t?” Biddi asked, curious.

“How would I?” Cass said, rubbing her forearm. Aside from bruises where Hanratty’s hands had held her down and the puncture wounds where Keene had fumbled for a vein, there were small red dots near the crook of her elbow. “But judging from this, they kept me under and maybe even stuck an IV in me for a while.”

Biddi looked at her brightly. “Good news, love. You’ve been out for four months. Winter is over.”

“Biddi, goddammit.”

She gave a small, apologetic smile. “You found Jun—poor, poor man—at midwinter’s. Today is the twenty-sixth, so five days.”

“My God.” Now that she had an actual number, a wave of anger and nausea rippled through her body. “I’ve got to get the hell out of here.”

“And I repeat, dear heart, to do what? Go where? When Hanratty or his little minion Taylor catches you in the hall, what will happen?”

Cass shivered. Another needle. And this time, maybe no waking up .

“For right now,” Biddi continued, “they’ve got you locked up, sure, but they can’t imprison you any more than they already have and they can’t keep you any longer than the normal winter-over.”

“They’ve gone over the edge, Biddi. They could dump me in the middle of an ice field just to get rid of me.”

Biddi hesitated. “I don’t disagree with you, Cassie, but—while I think there are some who sided with you when you read the riot act to our esteemed leader—there are others who might feel relieved to hang a scapegoat, if only to have someone to blame. It’s bollocks, I know, but if you sit tight and don’t bring attention to yourself, you won’t give any of them an excuse to do something drastic. You’re safe as houses staying here compared to the madness raging out there.”

“That’s the second time you’ve mentioned it. What’s going on?”

Biddi hunched forward conspiratorially, but she was already whispering. “Things have been falling apart since they tossed you in the dungeon. The things you, ah, mentioned at the midwinter party seemed to hit quite a nerve.”

“About the experiment?”

“Yes. It made sense to quite a few people. Two of Dave’s fuelie comrades, Jeremy and Sam, went to the manager with their concerns.”

“And?”

“And he had them thrown out of his office. Upon which, they made an attempt to take over the administration office and place Mr. Hanratty under arrest.”