The hours leading up to the crime were very turbulent. It all apparently started with the meeting in the auditorium. The admiral assembled a group of sixteen people — ten military personnel (nine residents, plus the helicopter pilot), five scientists (including Ema and Carlos) and one visitor (me). That morning, therefore — including the admiral, there were seventeen of us at the Comandante Ferraz. Later, another captain arrived, making a total of eighteen people.

     He explained to everyone, even in more detail, everything he had told me over coffee. Everyone already knew, notified by radio, of the federal government's provisional measure, which had suspended activities and prevented the Ary Rongel from setting sail in the port of Rio.

     As for the three scientists who were already at the station, they were unique figures, each with unique characteristics.

     Inês Silveira, a biologist and oceanographer, belongs to the Life Sciences team, involved in studies of the histological of the Antarctic fish, notothenia neglecta.

     Ernani Vidigal, meteorologist, from the Atmospheric Sciences team, engaged in the study of the diurnal variation of the geomagnetic field of the Earth's ionosphere.

     Humberto Romero de Souza, a geologist from the Earth Sciences team, is working on hydrodynamic studies of the inlet's water circulation in summer.

     It was clear from this sample why there was an ideological impasse over which type of research to adopt, whether basic or applied. How do you convince investors (the money people) of the practical applications of the histological study of the fish notothenia neglecta, for example?

     Speaking of fish, I was one — and out of the water, so I kept quiet the whole time. Dispersed, I was startled when one of the scientists stood up and raised his voice at the admiral, having gone toe-to-toe with him. It was that Humberto guy! Given his strength and size, it was difficult to hold him back. Arrested by the military, the admiral ordered him to be confined to his quarters, where he could not leave until further notice.

     I understood him. He was fighting for something he had dreamed of for a long time, and now it was falling apart without warning. All the planning of months, all the time spent studying and hours without sleep; the dream of a lifetime, all going down the drain. His last words, before being imprisoned, had been:

     "You're incompetent! That's what you are. You've never really been involved in this project! In one year in office, how many times have you stepped your foot here? An illustrious stranger, here at the station. Who knows you, anyway? Nobody! An absurdity! All this is happening because of you. Would it hurt to at least do some research this austral summer? Bullshit!"

     The admiral ordered:

     "Take him!"

     Humberto shouted:

     "You bastard! You will pay for this!"

     Humberto's unbalanced action was fully justifiable, but it could not be condoned. Nothing condones violence, even if it is justified! Humberto was right to question the government. Why not take the program to the end of the summer? Wasn't everyone already there? The government's attitude seemed more like retaliation against the scientific community than real cost containment. The admiral, on the other hand, had never set foot at the Ferraz Station? If this were true, it would be another aspect in which Humberto would have been right, even if he had lost it, in disrespecting the soldier.

     Was it the admiral's fault? Probably so, but he was just one of the gears in the system, a gear that was already visibly worn out, by the way.

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     I was informed that a second Hercules C-130, coming from Punta Arenas — and bringing more cargo to the President Frei base, was already facing difficulties due to an approaching storm. Fortunately, the journey was going well, with the landing scheduled for 3.30 pm, but the information about a blizzard approaching us made me extremely alert, although there was nothing I could do about it.

     As for the Ferraz Station helicopter, after dropping us off at Martel Cove, it returned to President Frei. As well as medicine, he had gone to pick up a Navy captain, who would be arriving in the second Hercules. He had come to temporarily replace the effective station manager, who had been rushed to São Paulo to solve a private problem. As far as I knew, the station had been without an official leader for almost ten days, which meant that the Sea Resources Secretariat had appointed the replacement rather late. Could this be another misstep by the admiral? Was he the kind of defender who was always late for the ball, running over everything?

     The helicopter was scheduled to return at 4:30 pm The admiral, by the way, was apprehensive about the aircraft's return, because although it was only a half-hour flight, on a route of, according to him, 'only' sixty kilometers¹, that was not a distance to be disregarded in the face of a blizzard. What I was amazed to see, however, was the naturalness with which the words 'storm and blizzard' were mentioned there, not knowing if this could be translated as 'we're safe'. And I was even more stunned by the fact that the nearest resource was 'only' sixty kilometers from us! A rifle shot, like Torres del Paine!
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¹Km =  Kilometers.