Polar Shift (NUMA Files 6)

"I agree, which is why I'm glad I'm engaged in pure research."

"Again, I offer my best wishes. Now, if you'll excuse me I must tend to my ship."

Karla thanked him for his hospitality, and they shook hands. Karla felt a sense of loneliness as the captain walked off, but she braced herself with thoughts of the work ahead. With a defiant glance at the island, she headed off to her cabin, where she collected her bags, and came back on deck to wait for her ride to shore.

The ship made a sweep close to the shore of a natural harbor to break a channel through the ice. Karla piled her bags into the ship's launch, then got in herself. The open boat was lowered to the water, the two crewmen aboard cast off the lines and they headed toward the island, weaving their way around chunks of ice as big as cars. As the boat made its way toward land, she could see a figure on shore waving at them.

Minutes later, the launch pulled up to shore a few hundred feet from a river that emptied out into the harbor and Karla stepped out onto the gravelly beach. The middle-aged woman who had been waiting on the beach came over and gave her an unexpected hug.

"I'm Maria Arbatov," she said, speaking with a Russian accent. "I'm so glad to meet you, Karla. I've heard many good things about your work. I can't believe someone so young has done so much."

Maria had silver hair tied up in a bun, high, rosy cheekbones and a broad smile that took the chill out of the arctic air.

"I'm pleased to meet you too, Maria. Thanks for the warm welcome."

Maria excused herself and supervised the unloading of some supplies that had been carried in on the boat. The boxes were neatly piled on the beach, where they would be retrieved later. Maria said there was nobody or nothing around to disturb them. Karla thanked the boat crew. She and Maria climbed a slight hill and hiked along the bank of the river. A path had been trampled by boot prints, suggesting that it had been the major traffic artery to and from the beach for a long time.

"How was your trip?" Maria asked as their feet crunched in the permafrost.

"Great. Captain Ivanov is a sweet man. The Kotelny regularly takes tourist groups around the islands, so my cabin was quite comfortable."

"Captain Ivanov was very gracious to us as well when he brought the expedition in. I hope you didn't get too comfortable. We have done our best, but our accommodations are far more primitive than those on the ship."

"I'll survive. How is the project going?"

"As you Americans say, do you want the good news first or the bad?"

Karla gave her a sidelong glance. "I'll leave it up to you."

"First, the good news. We have gone out on several expeditions and collected many promising specimens."

"That is good news. Now the bad?"

"You have arrived in the middle of a new Russo-Japanese war."

"I wasn't aware that I was stepping into a combat zone. What do you mean?"

"You know that this expedition is a joint venture?"

"Yes. It's a consortium of Russian and Japanese interests. The idea is to share the findings."

"As a scientist, you know that what's important is not so much what you find but how much credit you get for it."

"Credit equals stature, career and, ultimately, money."

"Correct. And, in this case, there is a great deal of money at stake, so it is even more important who will get the credit for our findings."

They were about a half a mile from the beach and had climbed a low rise when Maria announced: "We are almost there. Welcome to Ivorytown."

They followed the path across the tundra to several buildings clustered near the river. The biggest structure, the size of a single-car garage, was surrounded by several windowless buildings that were a third as big. The roofs were constructed from rusty corrugated steel. Two large tents had been set off to the side. Karla walked up to the nearest building and ran her hand over the rough, gray surface of the outside wall.

"This is made almost entirely of bones and tusks," she said in wonderment.

"The people who lived here made use of the most plentiful material on the island," Maria said. "The fossils are bound in some sort of homemade concrete. It's quite sturdy, and fulfills its main function, which is to keep the cold wind out."

The weathered wooden door in the side of the building swung open and a heavyset man with a beetling brow emerged. He shouldered Maria aside, hugged Karla like a long-lost uncle and kissed her wetly on both cheeks.

"I'm Sergei Arbatov," he said. He gave Karla a gold-toothed smile. "I'm the leader of this project. It's so nice to have such a lovely creature working with us."