“I do want you to raise your core temperature,” Charlotte said, “but please don’t make me do the Heimlich maneuver. It’s really pretty gross.”
Michael slowed down, and when he had finished chewing and swallowing, he said, nonchalantly, “So, have you heard about the dive today?” He wasn’t sure if Murphy had included her in the inner circle yet and didn’t want to give anything away.
Charlotte sipped her coffee, and nodded. “As chief medical officer at the base, he thought I should know…everything.”
“I’m glad he did,” Michael said, relieved, “but I don’t think there’s much you’ll be able to do for her.”
“He wasn’t worried about her,” Charlotte said. “He was worried about you. He was afraid you might want to talk to me about it and I’d think you’d flipped out.”
“I haven’t, have I?” Michael said, and Charlotte shrugged.
“Too soon to tell. But you still think there’s two of them? One in front and one in back?”
“I couldn’t tell for sure—it could be her cloak, or maybe just some kind of shadow or occlusion in the ice. We left a thick slab of ice in back, just to be on the safe side, so once Betty and Tina have carved away some of the excess, we’ll finally know one way or the other.”
Behind Charlotte, Michael saw a hand wildly waving. He tilted to one side and saw Darryl, with his own tray in hand, making his way across the commons. He plopped himself down on the bench next to Charlotte, and said to Michael in a conspiratorial tone, “Congratulations! I just visited Sleeping Beauty in the core bin, and I can report that she is resting quite peacefully.”
Michael felt a vague discomfort—not only at the jocularity, but at the very notion of her being asleep. He couldn’t forget that Kristin’s parents thought she, too, was simply sleeping.
“But you know,” Darryl said, as he spread a whole bowl’s worth of grated parmesan over a plate of spaghetti, “once Betty and Tina have done what they can do with the trimming, the best way to preserve the specimen would be to move it to the marine biology lab.” He said it so casually that Michael could tell he’d been thinking about it long and hard.
“Why?” Michael asked.
Darryl shrugged, again too offhandedly. “It needs to be thawed slowly, and ideally in local seawater. Otherwise, you could inflict some damage, or it could disintegrate. I could empty out the aquarium tank—those cod aren’t even my experiment—and lift the partitions. Then we’d be able to get the whole block of ice, or whatever remains of it, into a cool bath. We could melt it down very slowly, under controlled laboratory conditions.”
Michael looked at Charlotte for her expert opinion—after all, at least she was a doctor—but she seemed as much at sea as he was. “But why are you asking me, anyway?” Michael finally said. “Shouldn’t all this be Murphy O’Connor’s call?”
“He just runs the place,” Darryl replied, “and generally tries to stay clear of all the scientific issues. And like it or not,” Darryl said, raising a forkful of hanging spaghetti, “you’re Prince Charming in this scenario. How do you think we should bring her back? With a kiss?”
It was hard for Michael to think of himself as Prince Charming in this, or any, scenario, but he was starting to feel that if anyone was going to protect Sleeping Beauty’s interests, whatever those might be, it might just as well be him.
“If you think that’s what’s best,” Michael said, “I guess I do, too.”
Darryl, a bit of spaghetti dangling from his lip, looked very pleased. “Good call,” he said, sucking up the loose strand. “Especially in view of what I’m going to show you both after dinner.”
Michael and Charlotte exchanged a look.
“I haven’t told anyone else yet,” he added, “and I’m not sure if I plan to. We’ll see.”
With the mystery sufficiently deepened, Michael and Charlotte simply had to wait for Darryl to finish his meal. Michael filled the time with cherry cobbler, as did Charlotte, who followed hers with a decaf cappuccino. “Six months from now,” she said, pouring a sugar packet into her cup, “they’re gonna have to fly in a cargo plane just to carry my fat ass back to civilization.”
Later, in the marine lab, Darryl flew around the place setting things up while Michael and Charlotte stripped off their parkas and gloves. Even the short trips from one module to another required protection from the elements; thirty seconds outside and exposed skin could be frost-nipped.