But a chill that had nothing to do with the Antarctic cold crept down her spine, a primal warning that whispered:something about this isn’t right.
thirteen
“So there I was,”Tyler announced, fork waving dangerously close to Mia’s face, “plummeting into this endless abyss of ice?—”
“Fifteen feet,” Rue corrected dryly, sipping her coffee. “You fell fifteen feet.”
“It felt like a hundred,” Tyler insisted, not missing a beat. “Time slows down when you’re facing death. I saw my life flash before my eyes.”
Koos leaned forward, elbows on the table, his weathered face creased with genuine amusement. “And what did you see in this life flash, young man?”
“Mostly, I saw all the bad choices that led me to this moment. Like saying yes to this internship. And not sliding into Zendaya’s DMs when I had the chance.”
The table erupted in laughter. Even Noah, who had maintained his stoic demeanor throughout the day, cracked a smile. Rue noted how the tension from earlier had melted away, replaced by the peculiar bond that forms when a group survives a shared danger.
Tyler’s near-death experience had transformed him from the team’s liability into its entertainment, his arms windmilling as he described his fall into the crevasse for the third time since dinner began. With each retelling, the crevasse grew deeper, the danger more severe, and his composure more heroic.
“When exactly did you have a chance with Zendaya?” Mia asked, rolling her eyes but unable to hide her smile. “Weren’t you a baby when she was popular?”
“Age is just a number,” Tyler said. “And delusion is free.”
Jess snorted from her seat at the end of the table, her green hair catching the fluorescent light as she shook her head. “I give you three days before you fall into something else. Any takers for the betting pool?”
“Where’s the princess?” Koos asked, scanning the room. “She’s the only one of us who actually has money.”
“I don’t think Camille’s finding Antarctica to her liking,” Jess said with a smirk. “She’s probably holed up in her room with the heater on max.”
“I’ll put twenty on two days,” Noah said unexpectedly. It was the first time he’d volunteered anything beyond professional communication all day.
Rue exchanged a surprised glance with Elliot, who sat beside her, close enough that their shoulders occasionally brushed. That lingering awareness of him hadn’t faded. If anything, it had gotten worse. She was aware of every breath, every smile, and especially every time he looked at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention.
“Make it thirty on tomorrow,” Elliot added, his mouth quirking at the corner in that almost-smile that made Rue’s stomach do a little flip. “He seems eager to find new ways to test gravity.”
“Et tu, Elliot?” Tyler clutched his chest in mock betrayal. “And here I thought you were the nice one.”
“I’m plenty nice,” Elliot replied. “I’m just also realistic about your relationship with stable surfaces.”
More laughter rippled around the table. Rue found herself smiling despite the nagging unease that had settled in her chest since they’d returned to the station. The black substance from the ice remained unexplained—she’d mentioned it to Dr. Keene, who had dismissed it as “probably mineral deposits” without even looking up from his microscope.
The mess hall door swung open, and Koos jumped up to help a snow-dusted figure with an armful of equipment bags. Dr. Keene shuffled in, his glasses fogged from the temperature change, followed by Dr. Moretti, looking more gaunt than usual.
“Ah, the adventurers return,” Moretti muttered, dropping his bags by the door. “Sounds like quite the expedition.”
“Did you get the ice cores?” Dr. Keene asked distractedly as he peeled off his winter gear.
“One. But then Tyler fell into a hole,” Mia said.
Moretti’s eyebrows rose slightly as he helped himself to coffee from the stained pot. “Injuries?”
“Nothing serious,” Rue answered. “But we lost a camera. It’s wedged about twenty feet down a crevasse.”
“Unfortunate,” Moretti replied, though he didn’t sound particularly concerned. “But the equipment is replaceable. People aren’t.”
It was the most human thing Rue had heard him say, and she nodded in acknowledgment. “We did notice something interesting, though. There was a dark substance in the ice where we were drilling. Almost looked like oil.”
Moretti’s hand paused midway to his mouth, coffee cup hovering. “Oil?”
“Probably just mineral runoff,” Rue said, echoing her earlier assessment. “But it had an unusual consistency.”
