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"Growing up here, or hiding from the world, as I have done, under the icy cloak of remoteness, you learn that mother nature, must have skipped Sunday school when forgiveness and mercy were discussed. Here, in Oymyakon, the ground is in places permanently frozen for tens, and some places, for hundreds of feet, to the point where the soil has to be heated with a large fire, at least three days prior to burial. So, do an old man a kindness... Don't die. Not here, not now. On a different note, by the way, our vehicles run twenty-four-seven, if not parked in heated garages. So, if you pass idling cars, with no one behind the wheel, it would help if you're not tempted to reach in and switch them off" He stared at them, curious to see what their response would be. But the otherworldly image of Gerald McKenzie; as he leant his skew frame sideways, had depleted what he had explained about life outside the facility. And he knew that all too well. The trio knew better than to ask whether he was the result of the Yukon virus.

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