<strong>Outside Cubicle #18<br/>??<br/>Somewhere in Antarctica</strong><br/><br/>The door was jammed tight, but a few solid kicks dislodged the warped metal from its frame.  The door swung inward, revealing an interior similar to the other cubicles.  An older man sat on the overturned cot at the far side of the small room, a bloody hand clapped to his forehead.  He was dressed in a thermal suit, with a shock of graying brown hair that may have been neatly combed before the crash.  His exhalations were short and quick, sending out small plumes of mist with every breath.  He didn't look up when the door was kicked open.