“Houston can survive without me a few extra days,” she said, and then was quiet a moment. “You know, Meg, the main reason I dropped by was to thank you for the open reception my group’s gotten in light of everything else that’s going on. And I don’t mean some bad weather.” Another pause. “Having been Chief of Astronauts for a lot of years . . . and especially after Orion . . . well, I understand how it feels to be hijacked by outside circumstances. What you and the rest of the base staff must be going through with your people lost out on the ice. Yet you’ve all bent over backwards to make us welcome.”

Megan nodded a little.

“Glad things are working out,” she said. “The kids going to be okay with your extended absence?”

“Are you kidding? When they hear I’m stuck in the snow they’ll think it’s an answer to their prayers,” Annie said. “My mom’s staying with them, poor woman . . . she’s the one I worry about.”

Megan smiled. She clicked in on Annie’s expression, realized there was more on her mind, and waited.

“I don’t mean to be nosy,” Annie said after a companionable silence. “But since you’ve mentioned it . . . what’s bothering Pete? He seemed so great to work with in Florida. We became friends . . . and then, well, kind of lost touch . . .”

“Between us again?”

Annie nodded.

“Pete’s a gem,” Megan said. “He means everything to me. There’s no one in the world I’d rather have at my side in a crunch. But I guess certain adjustments are hard for him.” Her eyes made contact with Annie’s. “People in general have trouble changing direction. And men . . . they’re the worst. Quick to move when they know it’s wrong, slow when they know it’s absolutely right. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you. Put a guy at a crossroads, and you’ve got a real problem. He’ll stand there with his feet planted forever unless somebody gives him a push.”

Annie chuckled a little.

“Meg,” she said. “it’s been really super talking to you.”

“Same at this end.” Meg was smiling again. “How about we do some more once we’re through with today’s business? We have a bar here . . . the Meat Locker, hardy-har. I guarantee you’ll be impressed at how well it’s stocked.”

“Promise to drag me out before the last call and you’re on.”

Megan looked at her and winked.

“Dear girl,” she said, “one of the beauties of living in Antarctica is that last call’s whenever you want it to be.”

Pete Nimec pushed open the high-mounted 4x4’s passenger door, then frowned as gusting wind slammed it back hard against his shoulder. He gave it more oomph and jumped out into shin-deep snow.