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Polar Shift
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Текст книги "Polar Shift"


Автор книги: Clive Cussler



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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 26 страниц)

28

Housed on the tenth floor of NUMA headquarters is the modern-day equivalent of the famed Alexandria Library. The glass-enclosed computer center that takes up the entire level contains a vast digital library that includes every book and article, every scientific fact and record on the world's oceans, all connected to a highspeed computer network with the capacity to transfer enormous amounts of data in a blink of the eye.

The center is the brainchild of NUMA's computer genius, Hiram Yeager, who dubbed the artificial intelligence entity he created "Max." It was Yeager's idea to give Max a feminine human face represented by a three-dimensional holographic image with auburn hair, topaz eyes and a soft, feminine voice.

Paul Trout had decided to forgo the flirtatious holographic image. Rather than use Max's central control panel, where Yeager communicated with the computer by voice, Trout had taken over a meeting room in the corner of the data center. He had set up a simple keyboard to tap into Max's vast store of knowledge. The keyboard communicated with an oversize monitor that took up most of one wall. Seated with Trout at a mahogany table where they faced the screen were Gamay; Dr. Adler, the wave scientist; and Al Hibbet, the NUMA expert on electromagnetism.

Trout thanked everyone for coming and explained that Austin and Zavala had been called away. Then he tapped the keyboard. A photo of a thin-faced man with dark hair and soulful gray eyes appeared on the screen.

"I'd like you to meet the gentleman whose genius brought us here today," Trout said. "Here you see Lazlo Kovacs, the brilliant Hungarian electrical engineer. This photo was taken in the late thirties, about the time he was working on his revolutionary electromagnetism theories. And thisis what can happen when scientific brilliance is perverted."

Trout changed the picture to a split screen that displayed two satellite photos. On the left was the photo of the freak waves that sank the Southern Belle.The other side showed the giant whirlpool, as viewed from space.

He let the significance of the pictures sink in.

"We in this room have speculated that someone might have used electromagnetic transmissions based on the Kovacs Theorems to cause these disturbances. As you know, Gamay and I went to Los Alamos and talked to an authority on Kovacs's work. He confirmed our suspicions of human interference, and suggested the type of electromagnetic manipulation we've been seeing could cause a polar reversal."

"I assume we're talking about a reversal of the magnetic poles," Adler said.

"I wish that were so," Gamay interjected. "However, we may be facing a geologicpolar reversal where the earth's crust actually moves over its core."

"I'm not a geologist," Adler said, "but that sounds like a recipe for a catastrophe."

"Actually," Gamay said with a smile as bleak as it was lovely, "we may be talking about doomsday."

A heavy silence followed her pronouncement. Adler cleared his throat. "I heard the word 'may.' You seem to be giving yourself some wiggle room."

"I'd be happy if I could wiggle out of this situation entirely," Gamay said. "But you're right in sensing that we've given ourselves room for doubt. We don't know how reliable our Los Alamos source is, so Paul has come up with a way to test the Kovacs Theorems."

"How could you do that?" Adler said.

"By using a simulation," Trout said, "much the same way you would re-create sea conditions in your lab using a laboratory wave machine or computer model."

Hibbet said, "Kovacs only wrote of his theories in a generalway. He left out some of the specifics."

"That's true," Gamay said. "But Kovacs self-published a more detailed summary of his theorems. He used it as the basis for his published writings. There is only one copy in existence."

"If only we had it," Adler said.

Gamay slid the Kovacs folio across the table without comment.

Adler carefully picked the papers off the table and noted the name on the cover: Lazlo Kovacs. He glanced through the yellowed pages. "This is written in Hungarian," he said.

"One of our NUMA translators came up with an English copy," Trout said. "The math is a universal language, so there was no problem there. Testing was another matter. Then I remembered the work being done at the Los Alamos National Laboratory where scientists have come up with a way to test nuclear bombs from our arsenal without violating international treaty. They test the bomb's components, figuring in factors such as materials deterioration, and they feed the data into a computer which runs a simulation. I propose to do the same."

"It's certainly worth a try," Hibbet said.

Trout tapped the keyboard and an image of the earth appeared on the screen. The globe had a section cut out like a slice of orange to expose the layers of the inner core: liquid iron outer core, the mantle and the crust. "Maybe you can explain this diagram, Al."

"Glad to," Hibbet said. "The earth is like a big bar magnet. The inner core of solid iron rotates at a different speed from the outer core of molten iron. This movement creates a dynamo effect that generates a magnetic field called the geodynamo."

The picture changed to depict the intact globe. Lines looped out into space from one pole and curved back into the opposing pole.

"Those are the lines of magnetic force," Hibbet explained. "They create a magnetic field that surrounds the earth, and allows us to use compasses. Even more important, the magnetosphere extends out thirty-seven miles. This creates a barrier that protects us from the harmful solar wind radiation and swarms of deadly particles that bombard the earth from space."

Trout changed the computer image. They were looking at a map of the world. The ocean surface was splotched with blue and gold patches.

"In the 1990s, scientists pulled together everything known about the earth's molten core and fed it into a supercomputer," Trout said. "They threw all sorts of stuff into the mix. Temperature. Dimensions. Viscosity. They found that the poles reversed themselves every hundred thousand years or so, usually when one started to weaken. It looks like we're in for another cycle."

"The earth is undergoing a natural polar reversal?" Adler said.

"Apparently," Trout said. "The earth's magnetic field started to deteriorate seriously around a hundred and fifty years ago. Its strength has waned by ten to fifteen percent since then, and the deterioration in the field has accelerated. If the trend continues, the main field would waken and almost vanish, and it would reappear with the opposite polarity."

"Needles that point north would point south," Hibbet added.

"That's right," Trout said. "A magnetic polar reversal would mean a whole host of disruptive events, but the impact would be minimal. Most of us would be able to adapt and survive. Studies show that the magnetic poles have reversed many times."

"Herodotus wrote about the sun rising where it normally sets," Gamay said. "The Hopi talked about the chaos that comes about when the two twins who hold the earth in place leave their position. These could have been interpretations of ancient polar shifts."

"While legend is fascinating, and often contains a grain of truth, all of us at this table are versed in the scientific method," Adler said.

"That's why I didn't mention the clairvoyants and pseudoscientists who predicted an end of the world," Gamay said. "The whole concept of polar shift got mixed up with theories of Atlantis and ancient astronauts."

"As a wave expert, I deal with huge ocean forces," Adler said, "but a shift in the outer surface of an entire world seems unbelievable."

"Normally, I would agree," Gamay said. "But paleomagnetists who have studied lava flows have shown that the ground, has moved in relation to the earth's magnetic north. North America was once deep in the Southern Hemisphere, where it straddled the equator.

Einstein theorized that if enough ice accumulated on the polar caps, a shift could result. Scientists have found that there was a major reorganization of the earth's tectonic plates about half a billion years ago. The previous north and south poles relocated to the equator, and points on the equator became the poles we have now."

"You're talking about a process that takes millions, billions of years," Adler said.

Trout brought the discussion back to the computer simulation. "That's why we should look closer at the present. The image on the screen shows the earth's magnetic fields. Those splotches in blue are inward-directed fields. The gold is outward-directed. The British navy kept records of the magnetic and true north for three hundred years, which means we've got a pretty good database. What we see here is an increase in the number of blue islands."

"Which would indicate magnetic anomalies where the field is flowing the wrong way," Hibbet said.

"That large patch of color is the South Atlantic Anomaly where the field is alreadyflowing the wrong way," Trout said. "The anomaly's growth accelerated around the turn of the century. This ties in with Magsat readings that show weak areas in the north polar region and below South Africa. The observations are consistent with computer simulations that show the possible beginnings of a flip."

"You've made a convincing case that geologic and magnetic polar reversals have occurred," Adler said. "But what we're talking about is the possibility of man precipitating such an event. That's a lot of hubris on our part. Man is capable of much, but our puny efforts are not capable of shifting the entire surface of the planet."

"Seems crazy, doesn't it?" Trout said with a crooked grin. He turned to Hibbet. "You're our electromagnetism expert. What do you think?"

Hibbet stared at the screen. "I had no idea the southern ocean anomalies had grown so rapidly." He paused in thought, then, choosing his words carefully, said, "What Lazlo Kovacs got into was the nature of matter and energy. He discovered that matter oscillates between the stages of matter and energy. Energy is not subjected to the rules of time and space, so the shift from one phase to another is instantaneous. And matter follows energy's lead. In addressing this question, we have to look at the earth's electromagnetic makeup. If the electromagnetic energy changes in a certain way, matter-in this case the crust of the earth-can change as well."

"You're saying a geologic polar shift is possible," Gamay said.

"I'm saying that a man-made magnetic polar shift, with its intense, short-term nature, may precipitate irreversible geologic movement, especially now with a natural shift shaping up. All it needs is a nudge.An addition or discharge of electromagnetic energy that changes the field could stir up changes in matter. Cyclonic disruptions of the earth's core or magnetic field may have been responsible for the freak waves and the whirlpool. It wouldn't be the slow shifting of tectonic plates. The structure of the entire planet could change in an instant."

"With what results?" Gamay said.

"Catastrophic.If the crust slips around the molten core, inertial forces would come into play. The shift would create tsunamis that could sweep across continents, and winds more powerful than any hurricane. Earthquakes and volcanic eruptions with massive lava flows would develop. There would be drastic climate changes and radiation storms." He paused. "Species extinction is a definite possibility."

"There's been an increase in violent natural phenomena over the past few decades," Gamay said. "I wonder if those are warning signs."

"Maybe," Hibbet said.

"Before we scare ourselves silly, let's get back to the facts," Trout suggested. "I've taken the polar shift simulations from Caltech and Los Alamos as a base. I fed in the report Dr. Adler compiled on the ocean disturbances and the material Al submitted on the use of electromagnetic low-frequency transmissions. We've also simulated conditions of the molten currents in the core of the earth where the magnetic fields are formed. The Kovacs papers are the final part of the equation. If we're all ready …" He tapped the keyboard.

The globe disappeared and a message appeared on the screen:

HELLO, PAUL. HOW'S THE BEST-DRESSED MALE ON THE SPECIAL ASSIGNMENTS TEAM?

Max had picked up on his password. Trout squirmed in his chair, and yearned for the time when computers were simply dumb machines. He typed in:

HELLO, MAX. WE'RE READY FOR THE COMPUTER SIMULATION.

IS THIS AN ACADEMIC EXERCISE, PAUL?

NO.

Max paused for several seconds. It was an unusual response from the high-speed computer.

THIS EVENT CAN'T BE ALLOWED TO HAPPEN.

Trout stared at the words. Was it his imagination, or did Max seem alarmed? He typed a question:

WHY NOT?

IT WILL RESULT IN THE COMPLETE DESTRUCTION OF THE EARTH.

Trout's Adam's apple bobbed. He typed one word:

HOW?

WATCH.

The globe reappeared on the screen, and the gold patches on the oceans began to move. The red patch in the South Atlantic linked up with other patches of the same color until the entire ocean area below South America and South Africa blazed in red. Then the continents began to change their positions. North and South America did a 180-degree shift, so that they were lying on their sides. The points that had once marked the equator became the north and south poles. Violent surface phenomena spread over the globe like a virulent disease.

Trout typed another question, and held his breath:

IS THERE A WAY TO NEUTRALIZE THIS?

YES. DON'T LET IT BEGIN. IT CAN'T BE REVERSED.

IS THERE ANY WAY TO STOP THE REVERSAL?

I DON'T HAVE SUFFICIENT DATA TO ANSWER THAT QUESTION.

Trout knew he had gone as far as he could. He turned to the others. Adler and Hibbet had the look of men who had just been given tickets for a boat ride on the river Charon.

Gamay was equally stunned, but she had a calm expression on her face and determination in her eyes. "There's something here that doesn't make sense. Why would anyone do something that could mean the end of the world and of themselves?"

Trout scratched his head. "Maybe it's the old adage of playing with fire. It could be that they don't knowthe danger of what they're doing."

Gamay shook her head. "The capacity of our species for bone-headed actions never seems to amaze me."

"Cheer up," Trout said. "Pardon the gallows humor, but if this goes through there won't beany species."

29

Most of the Americans Captain Ivanov had encountered were tourists on adventure excursions around the New Siberian Sea. They tended to be affluent and middle-aged, armed with cameras and spotting scopes, and intrepid in their pursuit of one rare bird or another. But the two men who had descended from the sky and boarded his ship as if they owned it were cut from a different mold.

The seaplane carrying Austin and Zavala had caught up with the Russian icebreaker Kotelnynorthwest of Wrangel Island and touched down a few hundred feet from the vessel. Captain Ivanov ordered a boat lowered to fetch the plane's passengers. He was waiting on deck, curious about these Americans who had the political clout to commandeer his ship as their personal ferry.

The first to climb up the boarding ladder was a broad-shouldered man with pale hair and light blue eyes set in a rugged bronzed face. He was followed on deck by a slimmer, dark-complexioned man who moved with the relaxed athleticism that was a holdover from his college boxing days. They waved at the seaplane as it taxied for a takeoff.

The captain stepped forward to introduce himself. Despite his irritation, he strictly adhered to the customs of the sea. Their handshakes were firm, and behind the friendly smiles the captain detected a cool self-assurance that told him these were no bird-watchers.

The blue-eyed man said, "Thank you for having us aboard, Captain Ivanov. My name is Kurt Austin, and this is my friend and associate Joe Zavala. We're with NUMA, the National Underwater and Marine Agency."

The captain's stolid features softened. He had run into NUMA scientists a few times during his many years at sea and had been impressed with the agency's ships and the professionalism of its people.

"I'm honored to have you as my guests," he said.

The captain ordered his first mate to get the ship under way. He invited his guests to his cabin and pulled a bottle of vodka from a cabinet.

"How long before we make landfall?" Austin said.

"We'll be off Ivory Island in about two hours," the captain said.

"Then we'll pass on the vodka for now. Can we get to the island any sooner?"

The captain's eyes narrowed. NUMA or not, he was still annoyed at the directive to change course and head back to the island. The order from Naval Command had been to accommodate his visitors in whatever way they asked, but he didn't have to be happy about it.

"Yes, of course, if we increase speed," he said. "But I am not used to strangers telling me how fast to run my ship."

Austin couldn't miss the sour note in the captain's tone. "Maybe we'll take that vodka after all. What do you say, Joe?"

"Sun's over the yardarm somewhere," Zavala said.

The captain poured three shot glasses full to the brim and passed them around. They clinked glasses, and the NUMA men tossed down their drinks, impressing the captain, who had expected-even hoped-that his guests would gag on the high-octane liquor.

Austin complimented him on his vodka, and then said, "We apologize for diverting your ship, Captain, but it's important that we get to Ivory Island as soon as humanly possible."

"But if you are in a hurry, why didn't you just fly there in the seaplane?"

"We'd like to arrive without our presence being detected," Austin said.

Ivanov responded with a loud guffaw. "The Kotelnyis not exactly invisible."

"A valid point. It's important that the ship stay out of visual range of the island. We'll go the rest of the way on our own."

"As you wish. Ivory Island is a remote place. The only people you will see are some scientists on a crazy expedition to clone woolly mammoths."

"We know about the expedition," Austin said. "That's the reason we're here. One of the scientists is a young woman named Karla Janos. We think she may be in danger."

"Miss Janos was a passenger on the Kotelny.What sort of danger is she in?"

"We believe there may be people on the island who want to kill her."

"I don't understand."

"We don't have many details. We only know that we have to get to the island as soon as possible."

Captain Ivanov snatched up the ship's phone and ordered the engine room to proceed at full speed. Austin raised an eyebrow. Karla Janos must be a remarkable young woman. She had obviously entranced the weathered old Russian sea dog.

"Another request, if you don't mind," Austin said. "I wonder if there is a clear area of the deck where Joe and I can work without interfering with the ship's crew."

"Yes, of course. There is plenty of room in the stern."

"We brought two large bags aboard. Could you see that they are brought aft for us?"

"I'll give the order right away."

"One more thing," Austin said as they rose.

These Americans seemed to have an endless list of requirements. "Yes?" he said gruffly.

"Don't put that bottle away," Austin said with a grin. "We will want it to toast Ms. Janos's safe return."

The captain's frown turned to a broad grin. He gave Austin and Zavala several bone-cracking back thumps and led the way to the main deck. He rounded up a couple of crewmen, who carried the large bags to an area behind the superstructure.

After the captain left to attend to his duties, the crewmen watched in fascination as Austin and Zavala pulled a circular metal framework from the bags.

The aluminum-tubing backpack unit enclosed a compact, two-stroke engine, a 2.5-gallon fuel tank and a four-blade propeller. They attached the framework to a narrow seat. Then they attached lines from the framework to a canopy made of ripstop nylon, which they spread out on the deck. In a short time, they had assembled the Adventure X-Presso, a French-made paraglider.

Zavala, who had piloted a wide range of aircraft, cast a skeptical eye at the paraglider.

"That thing looks like a marriage between an electric fan and a barber's chair."

"Sorry," Austin said. "I couldn't fit an Apache helicopter into the carry-on."

Zavala shook his head. "We'd better pull our gear together."

Their other luggage had been stowed in a cabin. Austin pulled a holster out of his duffel, checked the load in his Bowen revolver and stuffed extra ammunition into a fanny pack. For this mission Zavala had chosen a Heckler amp; Koch .45 model that was developed for the army Special Forces. They carried a GPS, compass, portable radios, a first-aid kit and other emergency items. They wore inflatable flotation belts instead of bulky life vests, and dressed for the damp weather with waterproof outer layers over wool.

A crewman knocked on the door and relayed the captain's invitation to come to the bridge. When they entered the pilothouse, Ivanov beckoned them over to a radar screen and pointed to an elongated blip on the monitor.

"This is Ivory Island. We're about ten kilometers from landfall. How close do you want to go?"

There was a slight haze rising from the ice-flecked green water. The sky was overcast. Visibility was less than a mile. "Have someone keep watch through binoculars," Austin said. "When he sees the island, drop anchor."

The captain spread out a chart. "The main harbor is on the south side of the island. There are many smaller coves and inlets around the perimeter."

After conferring with Zavala, Austin decided to explore the expedition headquarters, then follow the river inland.

"We have enough fuel for roughly two hours in the air, so we'll have to keep our search itinerary tight," Austin said.

They went over their plans again and had wrapped up the discussion when the lookout said he could see the island.

"Joe and I are grateful for all your help," Austin told the captain.

"It's nothing," Ivanov said. "Ms. Janos reminds me of my own daughter. Please, do whatever you can to help her."

At Austin's request, the ship was positioned with its stern to the wind and a portion of the deck cleared for takeoff. Austin was pleased to see that the wind was no more than ten miles an hour. A stronger wind might push them backward. He knew, too, that the wind speed in the air would be higher than on the ground.

They first practiced takeoff without the canopy. The trick in a tandem takeoff was to run with synchronized leg movements and launch gently.

"That wasn't bad," Austin said after their first clumsy attempt.

Zavala glanced at the crewmen, who had been watching the practice runs with a mixture of amusement and horror. "I'll bet our Russian friends have never seen a four-legged duck before."

"We'll do better the next time."

Austin's confidence was misplaced. They stumbled halfway to takeoff, but the next two practice runs were nearly perfect. They put on their goggles, spread the canopy on the deck, extended the lines and connected them to the backpack. Austin hit the starter button and the engine whirred softly. The prop wash inflated the canopy so that it rose off the deck. Austin squeezed the hand throttle to rev up the engine, and they began their awkward, double-legged run toward the stern and into the wind. The three-hundred-square-foot canopy caught the wind and jerked them into the air.

Austin added power and they began to climb. The paraglider had a climb rate of three hundred feet per second, but its ascent was logy because they were riding tandem. Eventually, though, they reached an altitude of five hundred feet. Austin pulled on the left-hand line, which brought the wingtip down, and the paraglider went into a left-hand turn. They flew toward the island at a speed of twenty-five miles per hour.

As they neared land, Austin pulled both wingtips down simultaneously and the paraglider went into a gradual descent. They came in over the right-hand spit of land that enclosed the harbor and swung around on a gradual turn that took them over the deserted beach toward the river he had seen in the charts. Austin saw an object near the river, but the mists enshrouding the paraglider made it difficult to see details.

Zavala shouted, "There's a body down there!"

Austin brought the paraglider lower. The body was in a small, inflatable life raft that had been drawn up on the beach barely out of reach from the river's flow. He saw that the figure had long gray hair. He forced into the wind, stopped the engine and pulled back on both brake handles.

The wing was supposed to act like a parachute and allow for stand-up landings. But they came in too fast and too high. Their knees buckled, and they did a double nose plant in the sand, but at least they were down.

They collapsed the wing, unharnessed the backpack and approached the body of a woman, who was curled up in the raft in a fetal position. Austin squatted next to the raft and felt her pulse. It was weak, but she was alive. He and Zavala gently rolled her over onto her back. Blood stained her jacket near the left shoulder. Austin pulled the first-aid kit from his pack, and Zavala went to open the jacket so they could inspect the wound. The woman groaned and opened her eyes. They filled with fear when she saw the two strangers.

"It's all right," Zavala reassured her in his soft-spoken voice. "We're here to help you."

Austin brought his canteen to the woman's mouth and gave her a drink of water.

"My name is Kurt, and this is my friend Joe," Austin said when the color came back to her face. "Can you tell us your name?"

"Maria Arbatov," she said in a weak voice. "My husband …" Her voice trailed off.

"Are you with the expedition, Maria?"

"Yes."

"Where are the others?"

"Dead. All dead."

Austin felt as if someone had kicked him in the stomach. "What about the young woman? Karla Janos?"

"I don't know what happened to her. They took her away."

"The same people who shot you?"

"Yes. Ivory hunters. They killed my husband, Sergei, and the two Japanese men."

"Where did this happen?"

"The old riverbed. I crawled back to the campsite and put the raft in the river." Her eyes flickered and she passed out.

They inspected the shoulder more closely. The wound wasn't fatal, but Maria had lost a great deal of blood. Zavala cleaned and bandaged the wound. Austin called the Kotelnyon his hand radio.

"We found an injured woman on the beach," he told the captain.

"Miss Janos?"

"No. Maria Arbatov, one of the expedition scientists. She needs medical attention."

"I'll send a boat in immediately with my medical officer."

Austin and Zavala made Maria as comfortable as possible. The boat arrived with the medical officer and two crewmen. They carefully loaded the woman aboard and headed back to the icebreaker.

Austin and Zavala hooked up the paraglider. The takeoff went much smoother than their icebreaker launch. As soon as they had gained altitude, Austin steered the paraglider along the river. Alerted by Maria, they kept a sharp eye out for the ivory hunters. Minutes later, they made a soft landing in the permafrost near the old sheds. They slipped their side arms from their holsters and cautiously made their way toward the settlement.

While Joe covered him, Austin checked out the main tent. There were broken eggshells in the rubbish bin, evidence of a recent breakfast. They peeked into the smaller tent, then made their way to the sheds. All the buildings were unlocked except one. They pounded the padlock with a boulder. The lock stayed intact, but the nails holding the clasp in the rotting wood gave out. They opened the door and stepped inside. A musky animal smell greeted their nostrils. The shaft of light coming through the open doorway fell on the fur-covered creature stretched out on the table.

"This isn't something you're likely to see at the Washington Zoo," Zavala said.

Austin bent over the frozen carcass and examined the stubby trunk and undersize tusks. "Not unless they've opened a prehistoric wing. This is the carcass of what looks like a baby mammoth."

"The state of preservation is incredible," Zavala said. "It looks freeze-dried."

After inspecting the frozen animal for a few minutes, they went back outside. Austin noticed boot prints in the permafrost leading to a path that ran alongside the river. They set the paraglider up for a takeoff from a low hill and flew along the winding path of the river, reasoning that Maria Arbatov couldn't have been far from the waterway when she was shot. Austin saw three bodies lying near a fork in a narrow canyon. He circled the immediate area but saw no sign of ivory hunters, and set the paraglider down near the edge of the gorge.

They climbed down the side and made their way to three bodies. The three men had been shot. Austin's jaw hardened, and all traces of warmth vanished from his light blue eyes. He thought about Maria Arbatov's harrowing escape down the river and vowed that whoever did this would be made to pay.

Zavala was bending over scuff marks in the gravelly sand. "These guys didn't care about covering their tracks. The trail should be easy to follow."

"Let's go pay them our respects," Austin said.

Moving stealthily with guns in hand, they followed the footprints along the winding canyon. Rounding a corner, they came upon a fourth body.

Zavala knelt by the side of the dead man. "Knife wound between the shoulder blades. Strange. This gentleman wasn't shot like the other people. I wonder who he is."

Austin rolled the corpse over and stared at the unshaven features. "Not the kind of face you'd see at a chamber of commerce meeting."

The ground around the dead man showed evidence of a scuffle, and prints led away from the body. Austin thought he saw the smaller boot prints of a woman in with the others. Moving even more quietly, they made their way along the gorge and eventually came to a place where the footprints ended and the banking had been broken down.

They climbed from the ravine, and picked up the trail again in the permafrost. Although the countryside was open and they could see for miles, there was no sign of life except for a few wheeling seabirds. The trail led to a shallow valley that brought them to the cave entrance.


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