Lincoln Child - Terminal Freeze

The question hung in the cold air, unanswered. In the silence that followed, Marshall heard the distant whap-whap of helicopter blades.

“That would be my ride,” Logan murmured. He hoisted the duffel at his feet.

“What about you?” Marshall asked.

“What about me?” Logan slung his laptop over his shoulder. “If either of you are ever in New Haven, look me up.”

“That’s not an answer. Which theory do you subscribe to-the scientific or the spiritual?”

Logan looked at him for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly. Instead of answering, he asked a question of his own. “Where did you grow up, Dr. Marshall?”

This was the last thing Marshall expected to hear. “ Rapid City, South Dakota.”

“Have any pets?”

“Sure. Three dachshunds.”

“Ever go on long driving trips as a kid?”

Marshall nodded, mystified. “Practically every summer.”

“Ever lose any of those dachshunds at a roadside rest stop?”

“No.”

“I did,” said Logan. “Barkley, my Irish setter. I loved that dog more than just about anything. He ran off at a picnic ground in the middle of Oklahoma nowhere. My family looked for three hours. Never found him. Finally, we had to leave. I was inconsolable.”

The helicopter was landing now outside the security perimeter, beating up diaphanous skeins of powdery snow. Marshall looked at Logan, frowning. “I don’t understand what losing a pet has to do with-”

All of a sudden Logan ’s implication hit home. Marshall blinked in surprise as the light dawned. “Except that the travelers you’re talking about were from much farther away than Rapid City, South Dakota.”

Logan nodded. “Much, much farther.”

Marshall shook his head. “Is that what you believe?”

“I’m an enigmalogist. It’s my job to exercise my imagination. As your friend Faraday here said-mere theory and speculation.” He grinned, shook their hands in turn, then walked toward the waiting helicopter. As the pilot opened the passenger door, he turned back.

“It’s a hell of a speculation, though-isn’t it?” he called over the whine of the engine. Then he clambered in and closed the door. The helicopter rose; wheeled over the Fear glacier-blue against the blue of the sky-and then turned sharply south, toward civilization, away from the land of the spirits.