Five weeks, two days, nine hours until summer crew get here.

So went the mantra in Theo’s head, one he had repeated so many times it was probably burned there.

If summer crew was here, you wouldn’t be able to do this. As usual, he ignored that thought, then thumbed the exterior door activation.

“Hey, Theo,” the voice came over the radio, barking into his earpiece and echoing in the little red plastic airlock a second later. “Computer says you just put through a departure request. You’re going outside?”

Theo shuffled awkwardly in his thick arctic gear, pulling down an orange mask from around his face so Corey would be able to hear him. “Yeah,” he said, gripping the airlock wheel and twisting—without success. “Just got the last of the probes to deploy.” He thumped one hand against the tight bundle beside him, rattling the wires and poles within. “Won’t take me ten minutes.”

“You’re…” Paper rustled from the other side of the radio. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re not scheduled for any maintenance runs. Is this another one of your pet projects?”

“Maybe.” He shifted uneasily, gripping the bundle a little tighter to his chest. “Corporate already gave me the approval. It should be on your desk somewhere.”

There was a brief silence. While Corey fished around, Theo leaned forward towards the window, peeking outside. It was round, and just outside the snow continued in a drift that seemed to go on for miles. Most of the other observatory structures were buried at least halfway, with only the proud backbone of Tower 1 slicing through the snow. Above it all, the aurora flickered green and purple, staining the snow.

“Yeah, found it,” Corey muttered, his tone darkening. “There’s a note here… The NOAA joint research committee wishes to remind you that you have been granted approval to access non-reserved property for the purposes of research activities for… Technical University of Graz. Austria, Really?” He cleared his throat. “But that it will not be held liable for personal injury sustained in the process, and any damage you do to our equipment will be subject to… whatever. I think you get the idea.”

“I break it, I buy it,” Theo muttered, twisting on the door again. “Look, could you unlock me already?”

“You’re sitting at a balmy fifteen degrees below zero. Wind twelve kilometers per hour out of the southwest. You’re clear for now, but we’re still on storm watch. Did you look at radar before heading out?”

“Yeah.” Theo banged on the door, even though he knew Corey wouldn’t hear it. “Come on, I’ve already been on shift ten hours. I’ll get this stuff plugged in, then be out.”

From near his hand, a steel bolt slammed back into its receiver. A faint whistle of wind issued in, and cold touched his exposed face. “Thanks.”

“Only looking out for you,” Corey said. “We penguins have to look out for each other. I want a wellness check every ten minutes. If you don’t ping me, I’m going out after you.”

Theo adjusted his mask, then pressed the bright red button near the airlock. His feet shook, along with a roar of compressed air that banged the airlock closed. Outside, the entry tunnel had been almost emptied of snow.

“Here we go,” he muttered, settling his cargo sled down behind him and shoving the airlock open.

Even wearing the latest in arctic survival gear, he felt the chill through his clothes almost the second he stepped outside. But he ignored it—Theo had been serving at Barrow Observatory since the start of last summer shift. Despite how lanky and unimpressive he looked, he could handle a bit of cold.

Theo stepped out, and with his motion the mounted floodlights came on. Even prepared for them, Theo still whimpered, covering his eyes for a second and waiting for them to adjust. The worst part was probably what they did to the aurora, ruining his night vision until all he could see was a green soup in the air, with a few faint splotches of clouds spread out.

The walkways and roads had all been buried by winter snowfall. But that didn’t matter to Theo—he knew where he was going, straight to the hill overlooking the newest addition to Barrow Observatory, located at the highest point for fifty miles around.

A placard proclaiming the “Borealis High-Energy Particle Observation Experiment” was still visible emerging from just above the snowline on Computer Building 2, located feet from the base of Tower 2. Theo slowed a little as he passed the door, thinking longingly of the pleasantly warm servers inside. It was only a ten-minute walk to Tower 2 and already he felt his limbs growing stiff. There’s a reason everyone flies south for the winter.

But he couldn’t go in—his laptop was already in there, quietly chugging away. All that remained now were a few last additions to the sensors.

Theo stopped at the base of the stairs, glancing upward the hundred feet to the top of Tower 2. Patches of ice and snow clung to the steel at various points, making it impossible to see all the way to the dish. The tower shook rhythmically in the wind, rattling his hand against the railing.

Last chance to turn back.

Instead of heading back inside, Theo scooped up his sledge, slipping one arm and then the other through the backpack straps. Then he started to climb.

“Checking… in,” he said over the radio, unable to keep the exertion from his voice. “Everything’s good on my end. Nothing to report.”

Corey responded almost instantly, his voice rushed. “You could report how the hell you got corporate to agree to this. Setting up some 3D-printed crap on their hundred-million-dollar array?”

The steps settled into a rhythm beneath Theo’s boots. One flight, then the next, again and again. “BHE-POE doesn’t come online until summer crew gets here to calibrate the array. University got permission to use a couple of the empty sensor nodes.”

“You can tell me more about it when you get back,” Corey said. “Anything else you need from my end? I’m out of DS9, and I don’t think I’m quite ready for Voyager yet. I could use a time-killer.”

“Nothing,” Theo said. “But keep an eye on the radar. Last I checked, I had four hours before anything got too close. Let me know if that changes.”

“Will do. Corey out.”

Theo rounded the top of the tower another ten minutes later. He hadn’t slipped this time—not like when he’d been up here checking on snow accumulation a few weeks back, and he’d slipped a whole leg through the side of the safety rail.

The top of Tower 2 was an almost perfect parabola, curving upward towards the sky in a grate of unidentifiable metal. No snow or ice had piled on the dish, and for good reason—the entire surface was warm even through his boots—warm enough that the snow couldn’t bury it.

Every meter or so there was an opening in the array, filled with little sensor modules that would sit flush with the dish once settled properly. Theo tossed the backpack down, then yanked on the zipper with a gloved hand. There were half a dozen bits of 3D-printed plastic inside, each one the perfect size to be installed.

By the time Theo was halfway done, the automatic lights had gone off again down on ground level, and his eyes could adjust to the aurora. He didn’t rush it—the wind wasn’t picking up, and the temperature was fine. Besides, the darkness meant he didn’t have to see just how terrifyingly high-up he was. If I slip, that snow won’t be enough to catch me. I’ll be dead and frozen at the same time.

From up here, it seemed like the aurora was even more spectacular. A single green band was joined with purple and faint suggestions of orange. He imagined his ears could make out the invisible crackling of supercharged electrons this detector was meant to observe. But of course, he couldn’t—that was only the wind knocking bits of ice off the tower.

“Hey, Theo. You missed your check, all good?”

“Oh, yeah.” He blinked, looking down at his empty bag. The modules were all in place—except for the one in his hands. He rose from his sitting position against the railing, then crossed towards the center where the last module would be installed. “Sorry, the sky distracted me. You should really get a look at it.”

“Sounds like you’re getting too cold out there,” Corey said, unimpressed. “Stop whatever you’re doing and head back. You can finish whatever you’re up to out there on your next shift.”

“Sure thing,” Theo lied. “I’ll head back right away.”

Instead of that, he dropped to his knees, settling the last module into place with a click.

The change around him was instantaneous. The little red light on all the other modules switched to green, and from his pocket his control PDA vibrated. The program was already starting. No problem, I just need to get down in the next ten minutes. No big deal. But Theo didn’t move right away—he was transfixed with what was happening overhead.

Maybe Corey was right—maybe he had been out in the cold too long. While the Aurora had been properly distant before, it now seemed as though someone had dragged it almost on top of him, with purples and greens blasting directly into his eyes.

“Holy shit, Theo.” Corey’s voice no longer sounded amused. “The resonator is coming online. What the hell did you do?”

“We’re taking observations,” he said, getting to his feet and clinging to the rail. It was all he could do—the light was so bright that he didn’t trust himself to use the stairs yet. He fumbled with a pocket, searching for his sunglasses, but unable to find them.”

“That’s not the half of it,” Corey continued. “There’s some kind of… there’s something on radar. Hell, there’s not even time for you to get back to residence. Just, uh… the computer shed. Get down there and lock yourself in tight. We’re in for a helluva ride.”

“What are you—” Theo began, a second before his cargo sledge was torn right off the dish in front of him and fell upward into the sky. The entire tower started rumbling. Theo gripped the edge of the railing, wrapping one arm all the way around.

Not a second too soon—a blast of wind hit him next, and tore his legs right out from under him. He felt himself lifting into the air, though it was so bright over his head now that he couldn’t see anything. “Something’s got me, Corey!” Theo called, wincing as the steel railing bit into the padded sleeves of his coat. Down poured out from inside, exploding out and around him and outlining the impossible wind upward. For an instant Theo could see it, a clear path leading straight up into the sky. “I can’t… hold on much longer!”

“I’m shutting everything down!” Corey called back, uselessly. As though any system he could switch off would stop the wailing wind. “Just hold tight, Theo! I’ll… I’ll get a message south! It won’t be long! We’ll get help from Barrow. Don’t move!”

Theo felt something give in his arm, and a crack a second later. There was terrible pain, spreading numbness all the way to his shoulder. But that wasn’t the worst of it.

He was falling—falling up into the sky. A mountain of snow and ice fell with him, swirling together and concealing all of Barrow Observatory from view below. He couldn’t make out any of the landing lights, or even the warm glow of the barracks. Theo spun head-over-heels, and between the light and the snow all around, he’d completely lost track of which was up and which down. Not that it matters. I’ll be dead as soon as I find out.

It kept getting brighter. Purple shone around him so brilliantly that he could see it even though firmly-shut eyes. His entire world was swallowed in light.