I nodded, in shock. Ron re-asked the question two more times to make sure I understood.

"Marley," he began. "We have all the data and info we need. What we don't have is time. That's something we're in desperately short supply on. Britain's new parliament and the new Republican-led Congress are both about to hold hearings on the validity of climate science. The last thing we need right now is to have public opinion slowly torn from our cause. We're already losing that battle."

"But I helped to design those sensors," I said stupidly, "The only information we'll get back at under 8000 ft is going to be inaccurate. We won't be able to collect and analyze the data in order to draw a reasonable conclusion."

Ron touched my cheek gently. "My dear, Marley," he sounded sincere. "We're not talking about science right now. Put that aside and listen to me. There's an existential threat..."

"I know that!" I interrupted.

"Marley!" Ron grabbed both of my shoulders. He looked more serious than at any other time since I'd known him. I looked at him, petrified. He waited for me to calm myself.

"The science," he restarted, "the work we are doing; it's very important but it isn't the end game. What we're doing won't prove out for more than a decade and that's if we do everything right. The immediate threat isn't the climate, it is nine billion humans."

"I don't understand," I informed him.

"Try, Marley," he encouraged. "Nine billion people, each producing an average of .74 kilograms of trash per day. That's almost eighteen billion pounds of trash every single day, except, in the US, people produce five pounds per day instead of one point six. That's not sustainable. We need climate facts and figures now, even if they are disputable so world leaders can curtail human wasteful habits before it's too late. It may already be."

I was stunned. I just stared at him, waiting for a sick punchline.

"I can't accept that," I said in a daze. "You're telling me the science is... what? Not real?"

"Oh, it's real," Ron said, amused at my consternation. "You went to school. You earned a degree and excelled quite well there. Remember, I vetted you before hiring. Sixty, say seventy percent of what came from your textbook was applied, provable science. The rest, however, was filtered with theoretical concepts, and made to look like a logical conclusion. Hypothesis and then Thesis, sometimes without the key elements: specificity, clarity, and testability.

"Disease and war," he continued, "used to be the planet's best defense in controlling the population, except technology has changed that, on both counts I'm afraid. In three weeks, I'll be appearing before the British Parliament to share some of our findings - some very scary stuff. Of course, some will dispute the findings but they will be delivered in such a way that makes it look very convincing. After that, I'm off to South Africa then Greece. I've been told by Brinks that I'll be testifying before the Congress next month."

"How could Brinks know that?"

"Ah," he said, standing. "The very last thing you shouldn't know. Are you sure you want to hear it? If I tell you, you've become part of the inner circle, forever."

It was all too much for me but I couldn't allow him to stop there. I slowly nodded.

"Brinks knows," he said, "because our partner, Blackstone knows. They own a majority interest in Brinks as they do with most Fortune 100 companies, not to mention how tight they are with the US Government."

He chuckled and reached for a bottle of water. "Your very own husband is working for us, although he doesn't have a clue about that." He handed me the water and I was thankful because my mouth was as dry as the Sahara.

"Which brings me back to the beginning of our talk," he smiled for the first time. "If what you suspect is true, you'll need to go home and convince him that we're not sleeping together; that we never have. Quell his suspicions. Fuck him senseless, for all I care, just do what must be done. He couldn't have any proof unless he's seen your phone."

"He doesn't know the code to my phone," I replied.

"Then all he has is supposition," he retorted. "Remind him he's a scientist and how far supposition gets you. You've told me more than once that you love him, so love the living shit out of him. Do what comes naturally for a loving wife."

I wanted to tell Ron that might have worked before these two trips but kept quiet.

The next morning, two others and I set the sensors on a flatter section of rock, partially shielded from the harsh conditions by a rugged cliff face. The GPS told me we were at 7890 feet, nowhere near our target to gather any meaningful data.

As we broke camp and worked our way down the mountain, I constantly watched Ron to see who he spoke to most and who else was in the 'inner circle.' I'd be doing some serious digging when we got back and discreetly questioning some of the long-time employees at Brinks. The man I was having an affair with wasn't at all who he'd pretended to be. At least to me. Then it hit me, Dan was right all along.

>>>>

Dan:

I'm ashamed to say that I almost completely forgot about my wife in those six weeks, except to gloat, knowing at least a few of my plans had held them up on the mountain.

The rocket boosters, more specifically, the complex equations we were working through to gain enough thrust for the payload, weren't working out. My team was relentless in their efforts. As the team lead, I made the call to Washington and explained our dilemma.

I told them to balance the payload and maintain stability, we needed fourteen boosters, not fifteen. The opposite effect would be a downrange shimmy that could effectively roll the payload over onto itself. The even or odd was of little consequence, rather any geometric pattern of fifteen boosters we tried led to structural failure.

We needed to cut the payload by 1215 pounds to make the fourteen boosters work. The heated conversation on the Teams call went about as I expected. No way would they concede to that. I asked for two of NASA's top materials engineers to join the team immediately so we could test lesser-weighted materials aboard the payload. At least I was granted that small concession.

Despite the workload, Jeannie and I managed to have dinner at least weekly. A few days before I thought my wife was to return, our dinner outing took a more serious turn.

"I've got some more news on Brinks," Jeannie said as she munched desert. "And you're not going to like it."

She explained what she'd learned. It sounded preposterous. I couldn't see myself believing her as she talked.

"That's pretty far out there," I countered. "Even for the dark web."

"That's just it, Dan," she replied. "These are people I know. I went to school with one at Cornell. He has... well, had his PhD in anthropology. That is until he couldn't learn to keep his mouth shut. He was constantly in chat rooms and forums expressing his thoughts about climate science. He made a compelling argument, too, which is why he now works as a bank teller."

"Good God, Jean," I said, incredulously. "Are you saying he was silenced by Brinks? Look, I have a ton of problems with the faulty science these people put in the journals, that's for sure, but you sound like a conspiracy theorist. How credible can these sites you visit be?"

Jeannie looked at me like I had two heads. "Ah, about a thousand percent more reliable than Fox News or CNN. Geez, Dan, don't tell me you've been living under a rock?"

"Give me a break," I raised my voice a bit too loudly, not liking her insinuation. "You know I've been busy with my career. I don't care about politics and corporations. I've only voted in one election in college and that's only because the people at the booth on campus harassed me like carnival gamesmen."

"Okay," she retorted, "then listen to me since you don't know. Brinks working with the Department of Defense is one thing. What they're planning to build is something else altogether. Our boosters are being tested and designed to get them into orbit. I didn't sign up for this shit. An initiative they're working on - POH - although I haven't discovered what that means yet, has something to do with our boosters and my fuel."

I was starting to see a different side of Jeannie. She was keen - perhaps too much so - to help me try to evaluate the puzzle of my marriage when I confided in her. Now she was Sherlocking the company Marley worked for while trying to tie them to us. I couldn't figure out why she was so determined to find some sort of smoking gun. I was proud of the project we were working on, proud of myself as the team lead, and the money that came with that.

My wife was a separate issue. She was cheating and she'd be gone the minute I got proof or when she admitted it. If my plan for dealing with her mountain climb worked, I'd know for sure sooner than later.

Four days after my dinner with Jeannie, I got home a little after six and my olfactory senses were bombarded with the smells of my favorite meal. Marley came bounding out of the kitchen jumping into my arms and wrapping her legs around my waist.

"Oh my God, Baby!" she screamed with delight. "You're home! I've missed you so much."

"Well, well," I deadpanned, ignoring her physical intrusion. "Look what the cat dragged in."

Marley's legs and hands quickly left the space they'd occupied. Her smile turned to a disappointing frown as she stood back a few feet trying to read me. I did my best to remain stoic, not giving myself away.

"Aren't you happy to see me?" she asked, with one of her trademark pouts.

"Of course," I said, letting a smile appear. "Just because you belong to someone else, doesn't mean I wish you ill will. Let me change and you can tell me all about your adventures over dinner. From the smell, I take it you went all out cooking."

As I started walking away, my words must have hit home. "Dan," she hollered. "Exactly what the hell do you mean, someone else's?"

"We'll talk about it when I come down to dinner." I left her standing there.

We sat down twenty minutes later to pot roast with potatoes and carrots. I made a big deal of pouring the wine and then waiting for her to take a bite before looking at my plate suspiciously and digging in. I knew it was petty but it would likely also answer at least one of her questions. No need to drag things out. Her first reaction wasn't what I expected.

"Why did you do that to me?" she asked with an angry edge. "For that matter, what did you do to me?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I answered while chewing my food. She stared at me for a moment before picking up her knife.

"Where's the special lingerie?" I asked. She stopped cutting her meat mid-stride. "Did you let him keep it or were you planning to wear it for me tonight?"

She set her utensils down next to her plate. "So, you went through my phone." It was a statement. I ignored her again.

"Oh look, Dan," I mocked. "I bought this special sexy outfit so we could rekindle our love after I've been gallivanting around fucking my Portuguese stud."

She wasn't avoiding my eyes which was a good sign. Defiance meant she had feelings for him and my outing her would help get her the hell out of my life faster.

"It's in my dresser drawer, smartass," she scowled with a reddening face. "No, I wasn't going to wear it for you. What happened between us..."

"So, he gets to see you model it here, a little repeat performance in our marital bedroom, while I'm at work." I interrupted her, not wanting to hear her weak excuses for ending our marriage. "You're really something else, Marley. Glad I found out now instead of later."

"So, what did you do, huh, Mr. Chemist?" she went on offense, understanding why I'd cut off her last remark. "Something you put in my make-up or my lotion. The sleeping bags were part of our gear. What exactly did you use? You set us back a good bit and I couldn't finish my experiment. You fucked up my work. Are you happy?"

"Again, I have no idea what you're talking about." I smiled deviously then. "Needless to say, we're getting a divorce."

"Oh no, we're not!" she screamed at me. "After I find out what you did to me, I'll find a way to forgive you. In a way I deserved it. I did something wrong, too. I'm not in love with him. We were alone in a damned remote freezing place for months. It was merely a biological function for both of us."

I set my fork and knife aside then. After laughing, cackling more accurately, I threw my wine glass against the opposite wall. She flinched back in her chair.

"Please," I lectured. "Don't insult me by pulling out the cheaters' handbook. You seem to have forgotten; I saw your texts. It was a planned deception. You were fucking him in

Antarctica and you both were looking forward to a repeat on the mountain. I'm certain that it's been going on for some time before you two went to the ice. You no doubt are planning to continue your shitty affair now that you're back home. We're done."

"Fine," she said indignantly. "You're not ready to hear what I have to say. I understand but there isn't going to be a divorce. We're going to work this out like two loving adults. You've hurt me, too, Dan, both with your little stunt of late and for the last year or so demeaning my work."

"I'm staying here for a while," I sighed as I spoke. "I'm in the middle of something important and I can't be distracted moving right now. I'm set up in the spare room. And Marley, I'll never be ready to hear what you have to say. If you cared about me at all, you could start the divorce by filling out the forms online. A 50-50 split is all it comes down to and I don't give a damn about your creepy climate fantasy. Go back to Sousa. Considering what you've done to get him, and rid of me, he's your man."

I got up and walked away leaving her sitting there. A bit later, I headed for the local coffee haunt where I could work on some complex equations in private. I was going to call Jeannie and let her know how things had gone but decided to tell her the next day. By the time I got home, Marley was asleep.

The next day, Jeannie caught me first thing and dragged me outside the hangar. I was just about to meet the NASA guys and bring them up to speed.

"POH," she said almost in a whisper as her eyes scanned the area. "It stands for 'Produce Orbital Habitat.' These fuckers are going Soylent Green in private and they're using us to pull it off."

"Are you sure, Jean," I strictly asked. I was becoming numb to the facts of my life. A wayward wife was one thing, being involved with a wayward corporation and government was soul-numbing to me. I just wanted to make a living and help the world in the process.

"You don't believe me?" Jeannie must have picked up on my mood or expression. "Fuck, Dan, I wouldn't lie to you." She continued to study my face. "I only thought you should know. Shit, I won't bring it up again." Jeannie walked away from me, disappointment dripping from her body language.

I squared myself. Family troubles and women's troubles, and I still had a job to do. I'd decide what I wanted for myself as soon as we figured out these boosters. I spent the day acclimating to the two engineers.

When I got home, Marley wanted to talk, so I let her. I tried to listen and offer my attention, but I had equations and 'what-ifs' running through my head. Besides, I was done with Marley. I'm not one to cry over spilled milk or make a big fucking spectacle. She cheated. I figured it out before we got pregnant. The end. When this project was on track, I'd find a place, move my stuff, and file.

"Dan?" she brought me back to the current. "Are you even listening to me? I'm trying to explain how it happened."

"I'm quite sure I understand how, Mar," I said sarcastically. "I took enough biology classes as did you."

"Not how, dammit," she was exasperated with my lack of feeling. "I'm trying to explain why."

"Well, there you go," I told her honestly. "I have no interest in why. You made your choices. You know why or at least you should. Your decisions didn't involve me so telling me now would be pointless. The time to discuss this was when I first confronted you with my accusations."

"God, you're such an asshole," she screamed. "What happened to you? What happened to Dan Dawson, the man I fell in love with?"

"Ask Sousa," I said, leaving the room. "He can explain it to you."

There wasn't any more talking that night or the next. I had plenty to do with the engineers. They had already shaved significant weight from our payload. Jeannie seemed to make a point of not interacting with me also. That was by design.

The following morning, Marley was up and had coffee ready. She again seemed eager to engage me. While she was making me some scrambled eggs, she made a heaving sound, dropped her spatula, and ran to the bathroom. I could hear her vomiting. She stayed there for a long while. I left for work.

When I got home late that night, Marley's whole demeanor had changed. The bitchy façade turned calm and loving. She didn't try to physically interact but she was chattier than normal. I wondered what her game was.

Around noon the next day, I called an impromptu meeting with the team to update where we stood with the payload weight. Jeannie didn't attend and when asked, team members said they hadn't seen her. I called her cell and it went right to voicemail.

When I arrived home late, I saw lights on in our living room. We rarely spent any time in that room. There was a black sedan parked in front of the house as well.

Entering the house, I set my case down, walked past the living room, and headed for our fridge, grabbing a beer. Marley came and stood in the archway, silently. She knew what I was thinking. I walked past her and headed for the living room.

"Marley," I said as she followed me. "What is this Portuguese prick doing in my house?" I sat in a chair opposite my nemesis, appraising the large man in a tight suit standing next to Sousa. He was hard to miss and his eyes looked down on me without moving his head.

"I don't remember us inviting him," I said looking at her finally. "Well, whatever this is, let's get it over with. I'm busy."

"Daniel," Sousa said with a forming smile, "you're quite a resourceful man. A good scientist from what I've heard and seen." He paused, glancing at Marley. She wouldn't look at me.

"I believe I... we, owe you an apology," he continued. "You have every right to be angry and I understand your animosity towards Marley, but I assure you, what happened is more my doing. She loves you... very much. It can be very lonely on the ice shelf and I did... pursue her in very closed quarters. Surely you can understand?"

I took a sip or more like a gulp of beer. The smug jack-off was so placating, he was lucky he had the goon with him. "I see," I addressed him. "So, can I assume that you fucked other members of the Antarctica team, then? Maybe it was so lonely that others fucked my wife. One big, lonely orgy party, right? I suppose I can understand that. Doesn't change the fact that you're a worthless piece of shit and she's a slut. Tell me, a similar amount of loneliness on Mt. Manaslu?"

The smirk left his face, replaced by a look of extreme confidence. It was clear he didn't want to be in my house jostling with a man he didn't respect.

"All right," he changed tact, "now that the pleasantries are out of the way, let's talk about the mountain and the future, shall we?" He gave my wife a knowing look. They'd rehearsed this, undoubtedly.

"Now," he began, "you uncovered our texts - that was impolite, by the way - anyway..."

"Fuck you, asshole," I told him leaning forward. "Get to the good part."

"Sure," he said. "So, you went with what you knew, a little point of payback. Some sort of modified talcum I assume?"