White Death (NUMA Files 4)

"Your colleague is fascinating," Gamay said. "He looks more like a professional wrestler than a geneticist."

"Oh yes, Frederick is one of a kind. The female students love him.

He rides a motorcycle around the city, which they think is very cool."

"Is there something wrong with his eyes?"

"You noticed the sunglasses, of course. Frederick tends toward al- binism. As you can see from his lack of complexion, he avoids the sun, and his eyes are very sensitive to light. His handicap hasn't hindered his accomplishments, though. Everything I said about his brilliance is true, though, unlike me, he is putting his expertise to work in the private sector. He'll probably become a millionaire. Anyway, we must both thank you for alerting us. I'll start immediately to put a field team together/'

"We've taken enough of your time/' Gamay said. "Not at all. It's been a treat to talk to you. I hope we'll meet again." Throckmorton asked if he could copy the video. Minutes later Paul and Gamay were in a cab headed down the hill to the hotel. "Interesting afternoon/' Paul said.

"More so than you think. While Throckmorton and I were copy- ing the tape, I asked him who Barker's employers were. I thought it wouldn't hurt to have another lead to chase down. He said the com- pany was named Aurora."

"Pretty name," Paul said with a yawn. "What did he say about it?" Gamay smiled mysteriously. "He said Aurora is a subsidiary of a larger company."

Paul blinked. "Don't tell me-" She nodded. "Oceanus."

He thought about it for a moment, then said, "I tried to look at this as if I were creating a computer graphic, but the problem is more like a kid's picture puzzle. Barker is one dot, the guys who tried to drive us off the road are another dot. If we connect the two, we can start to sketch out a picture. So our course of action is very clear." "And what might that be?" Gamay said with skepticism. Paul gave her a lopsided grin. "We have to come up with more dots."

23

THE LOCATION RYAN had suggested for a rendezvous was

only a few minutes from NUMA headquarters. Austin drove along the George Washington Parkway to a sign that said THEODORE ROOSEVELT ISLAND. He parked his car, walked over the footbridge that spanned a narrow waterway called Little River and followed a path to the Roosevelt Memorial, a wide plaza edged by low benches. Ryan was standing with his back to the bronze statue of the president, apparently keeping an eye out for Austin.

Ryan waved him over. "Thanks for coming, Kurt." Ryan turned and gazed up at the statue. TR stood with legs wide apart, fist raised high in the air. "01' Teddy up there got me into this crazy business. He put millions of acres under federal protection, saved endangered birds from the plume hunters and made the Grand Canyon a national park. He wasn't afraid to push the law to its lim- its when he thought he was acting in the public good. Whenever I have doubts about what I'm doing, I think of this guy staring down the fat cats."

Austin couldn't help feeling that Ryan was posing for a photo op. "It's hard to believe you have doubts about anything, Marcus."

"Oh I do, believe me. Especially when I think of the task I've carved out for myself: Protecting the world's oceans and the critters that live in them."

"If I recall my mythology, the sea-god position has been filled for the last few thousand years."

Ryan smirked like a guilty child. "Yeah, I guess I do sound god- like at times. But mythology also tells us that gods commonly appoint themselves to their positions."

"I'll remember that if I ever lose my job at NUMA. Therri said you wanted to talk to me about something important."

"Yes," Ryan said, looking past Austin's shoulder. "There she is now, as a matter of fact."

Therri was walking across the plaza with a young man Austin guessed to be in his early twenties. He had reddish-brown skin, a broad face and high cheekbo

nes.

"Good to see you again, Kurt," Therri said, extending her hand. Her manner was businesslike in front of the other men, but her eyes told Austin she hadn't forgotten the goodnight kiss in Copenhagen; or at least that's what he hoped they said. "This is Ben Nighthawk. Ben is a research assistant in our office."

Ryan suggested that they move off to the side of the memorial. When he was sure they could talk out of the earshot of any wander- ing tourists, he wasted no time. "Ben has uncovered some important information on Oceanus," he said.

With a nod from Ryan, the young Indian began to tell his story.

"I come from a tiny village in northern Canada. It's pretty remote, on a big lake, and usually it's pretty quiet up there. A few months ago, my mother wrote me a letter saying someone had bought a huge tract of land across the lake from the village. Big corporation, she thought. I hope to work against overdevelopment of the Canadian wilds when I get out of college, so I got really interested when she said they were building night and day on the lake. Helicopters and float- planes were coming in at all hours. I asked my mother to keep me up to date, and the last time I heard from her was more than two weeks ago. She was really worried." "About what?" Austin said.

"She didn't say, only that it had something to do with the stuff going on across the lake. So I got worried and went home to take a look-and my family was gone."

"You're saying they disappeared?" Austin said. Nighthawk nodded. "Everyone in the village had vanished." "Canada's a big place, Ben. Where was your village located?" Nighthawk glanced at Ryan. "In good time, Kurt," Ryan said.

"Tell Mr. Austin what happened next, Ben."

"I went looking for my family," Nighthawk continued. "I found them being kept prisoner on the other side of the lake. Guys with guns were forcing the men from my village to work, clearing land around a big building."