“Thank you. I’m optimistic that I’ll find something on the island to bolster my theory about the cause of the woolly mammoth’s extinction.”
The captain’s lips curled into a wry smile. “If your colleagues on the island are successful, we may be seeing mammoths in the Moscow zoo.”
Karla heaved a heavy sigh. “Maybe not in our lifetime. Even if the expedition manages to find mammoth DNA from an ancient specimen and it can be used to artificially impregnate an Indian elephant, it could take more than fifty years to develop a creature that is mostly mammoth.”
“I hope it never happens,” the captain said. “I don’t think it’s wise to tamper with nature. It’s like the sailors say about whistling on board a ship. You might whistle up a wind.”
“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.”
Karla couldn’t help but notice the shadow that crossed Maria’s brow. She had done her homework on the expedition members and knew that while Sergei was the project leader, his wife was his senior in the number of academic degrees she had. Karla constantly had to butt heads against the male academic establishment, and didn’t like the way he patronized her and ignored his wife. Karla stepped past Arbatov and put her arm around Maria’s shoulders.
“And it will be nice working with someone of such scientific achievement,” she said.
Maria’s frown disappeared and she beamed with pleasure. Arbatov’s glower indicated that he didn’t appreciate the snub. It’s not certain what would have happened next if two more people had not stepped out of the building. Without hesitating, Karla stepped over and bowed slightly before one of the men.
“Dr. Sato, my name is Karla Janos. I’m pleased to meet you,” she said to the older of the two men. “I’ve heard so much about the Gifu Science and Technology Center and Kinki University.” She turned to the younger man. “And you must be Dr. Ito, the veterinarian, with Kagoshima University in southern Japan.”
The men’s mouths widened in toothy smiles, and their heads bobbed, almost in unison, in polite bows.
“We hope you had a good trip,” Dr. Sato said. “We’re very pleased you could join our expedition.”
“Thank you for allowing me to be here. I know you must be busy with your own work.”
Karla chatted with the two men about mutual scientific acquaintances, and then Maria came over and took her by the arm.
“Let me show you where you’ll be staying.” She led the way to one of the smaller buildings, and they stepped inside the dim and musty interior. “This was built by some of the old fur traders, and the camp was expanded by ivory hunters. It’s more comfortable than it looks,” Maria said. “The big tents are used as our kitchen and dining room. The little tent set off by itself away from the camp is a unisex bathroom. It gets breezy out there, so you’ll learn to be quick. There’s no shower. You’ll have to be happy with sponge baths. We’ve got an electric generator, but we use it sparingly because of the limited amount of fuel.”
“I’m sure I’ll be quite happy,” Karla said, although she wondered for an instant if any of the fur trader murders had taken place in the building. She unrolled a foam pad and bedding on the floor.
“I must compliment you. You had our Japanese friends eating out of your hand when you brought up their affiliations.”
“It was easy. Once
I had their names, I looked them up on the Internet. I saw their pictures and read about their background. I think my charm was lost on Sergei, though.”
Maria let out a whooping laugh. “My husband is a good man at heart or I would have gotten rid of him a long time ago. But he can be a toad sometimes, especially when it comes to women, and his ego is like a big balloon.”
“I read about the both of you as well. He doesn’t have half the scientific credentials you have.”
“Yes, but he’s got the political connections, and that’s what counts. He will respect you for standing up to him, but if you don’t mind flattering the old man he’ll be eating out of your hand too. He’s really quite insecure, and I do it all the time.”
“Thanks for the advice. I’ll butter him up. What’s our schedule?”
“Everything’s up in the air right now.”
“I don’t understand.” She saw a glint of amusement in Maria’s eye. “Is there something you haven’t told me?”
“Yes. The good news is that we have found something quite wonderful. The bad news is that the others are deciding whether to let you in on the discovery now or whether they should wait until they know you better.”
Karla’s curiosity was piqued by the tantalizing hint, but she said, “Whatever you decide is fine with me. I’ve got my own work to keep me busy.”
Maria nodded, and led the way back to where the other scientists were gathered outside the large building.
Addressing Karla in a stern voice, Arbatov said, “You have arrived on the island at a very awkward, or fortunate, time, depending on you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“We have taken a vote,” Arbatov said in a stern voice. “We have decided to bring you into our confidence. But first you must swear not to divulge what you have seen to anyone, now or later, without the express consent of the members of this expedition.”
“I appreciate that,” Karla said. “But I don’t understand.” Karla glanced at Maria for help.
Arbatov gestured toward the shed, whose thick wooden door was flanked by the Japanese men. They looked like sculptures on an Asian temple. At the signal from the Russian, Sato opened the door and swept his arm in the air, inviting her to step inside.
Everyone was smiling. For a moment, Karla wondered if she had blundered into a den of lunatics who’d been driven mad by the arctic isolation. But she tentatively stepped forward and entered the big shed. The atmosphere was far less musty than her sleeping quarters, and she detected an animal, barnlike odor. Its source was a tangle of brownish red fur that lay on the table illuminated by the generator-powered floodlights. She took another step closer and began to make out details.
The creature looked as if it were sleeping. She half expected the eyes to pop open or the tail or short trunk to twitch.
Lying in front of her, as lifelike as it must have looked twenty thousand years ago, was the most perfectly preserved baby mammoth she had ever seen.
14
JORDAN GANT was like a Chimera, the mythical Greek monster of antiquity that was an assemblage of different, incongruous parts.
He was as disciplined as a fasting monk, and he projected an ascetic air, but the black, tailored suit and matching turtleneck that emphasized his pale skin and silver hair cost more than many people make in a week. His Washington office on Massachusetts Avenue was spartan compared to the luxurious lairs of the other high-powered foundations in the neighborhood, yet he owned a palatial Virginia farmhouse, a stable of horses and a garage full of fast cars. He had made a fortune off multinational investments, but he was the director of an organization whose stated goal was to hobble corporations like those that had made him rich.
His ears were small and close to his head, giving him the streamlined look of a hood ornament. His facial features were smooth, as if they had been formed before any character—good or bad—was etched on them. His expressions were no more substantive than images projected on a screen. In its relaxed, natural state, his face lacked emotion of any kind. He had mastered the politician’s smile to perfection, and he could turn it on as if he had a built-in electrical switch. He could feign sincere interest in the dullest of conversations, and project sympathy or joy, donning a mask like an actor from antiquity. At times, he seemed more an illusion than a man.
Gant was wearing his most congenial façade as he sat in his office talking to Irving Sacker, a middle-aged man with jowls and thinning black hair. With their manicured fingernails, respectable haircuts and conservative suits, Sacker and the other three attorneys from his influential Washington law firm looked as if Georgetown Law School had punched them out of legal dough with a cookie cutter. Although they differed in facial features and physiques, they all had the sharp-eyed expressions of hunting raptors ready to swoop down on a legal technicality.
“I see that you’ve brought along the casework and disks as I requested,” Gant said.
Sacker handed him an attaché case. “Normally, we would keep a backup of our files at the office, but since you’ve paid so generously for privacy we have cleaned all the data from our computers and files. It’s all here. It’s as if we never handled your case.”
“On behalf of the Global Interests Network, I’d like to thank you for all your hard work. Thank you for keeping this entire project a secret.”
“We were simply doing our job,” Sacker said. “It was an interesting challenge. What we’ve created on paper for you is a megacorporation that would control every possible means of electronic communication on the planet. Cell phone networks. Satellites. Telecommunications. The whole enchilada.”
“You’ll have to admit that this is the way that things have been heading, with all the buyouts and mergers in the industry.”
“Those arrangements are like lemonade stands compared to the entity we’ve set up for you.”
“Then you’ve done exactly what you’ve been asked to do.”
“In that case, I hope you’ll retain us for any antitrust suits that arise,” Sacker said with a grin.
Gant chuckled. “You’ll be the first on our list.”
“Would you mind if I asked you a question, Mr. Gant?”
“Not at all. Fire away.”
“These agreements and contracts would, under a highly unlikely set of circumstances, position someone to assume control over the major communications systems of the world. Correct me if I’m wrong, but your foundation is at odds with what you see as oppressive world trade, market system and capitalism.”
“That’s right. GIN is pro-democracy and nonpartisan. We agree that free trade can be beneficial to developing countries and the promotion of peace. But we’re campaigning against the current free-trade model. We’re concerned when corporate interests are put above safety standards, and environmental regulations are seen as barriers to free trade. We’re against a concentration of power in the hands of a few multinational corporations. We oppose the spread of investments across corporate boundaries, allowing them to evade local laws. We see the World Bank, the WTO and IMF as superseding local government.” He picked up a red-white-and-blue brochure and handed it to Sacker. “You can read all about our Freedom Project campaign in this handsome little pamphlet.”
“I’ve read it,” Sacker said, “and I don’t disagree with some of your positions.” He looked up at posters on the wall showing the WTO as a giant octopus. “Why would a foundation like yours spend a lot of money setting up the kind of thing you’re against?”
“Simple. We think the megacorporation you’ve designed will be a reality in the near future. If you want to fight your enemy, you have to know it. We’re primarily a think tank. The blueprint you prepared will give us the chance to probe the weaknesses, as well as the strengths, of a globalized communications network.”
“Very clever. It seems as though GIN is pretty good at the communications business already. I can’t turn on the TV news without seeing one of your talking heads pontificating on the subject of the day.”
&
nbsp; “Thank you. Our public outreach is pretty impressive, but you’re talking about influence, not power.”
Sacker glanced at his watch and heaved himself out of his chair. Gant shook hands with the team of attorneys and ushered them to the door. “Thank you again. We’ll be in touch.”
When the lawyers had left, Gant went over to his telephone, punched the intercom button and said a few words. The side door to the office opened and Mickey Doyle came in.
“Hello, Mickey,” Gant said. “You heard?”
Doyle nodded. “Sacker’s a smart guy. He was getting at something; he just didn’t know what it was.”
“I think I deflected him with my explanation, but I’m not sure he believed me completely. No matter. Have you talked to Margrave since the incident with Barrett?”
“This morning. He said he tried to call Spider but couldn’t get him. I told him that when I dropped Barrett off at the Portland airport, he said he wanted to get away for a few days to think things over.”
“Good work.” He opened a desk drawer and pulled out a leather-bound folder. Rather than risk questions over the bullet hole in the old folder, Doyle had replaced it with a new one. “I’ve read the material from Karla Janos. She definitely knows something.”
“That’s what Spider said. What do you want me to do about her?”
“It’s already in the works. When you called me from the island with the news about an antidote that might neutralize what we’re doing, I decided to move quickly. Our security arm traced the woman to the University of Alaska in Fairbanks. We just missed her, unfortunately. She’s gone off on a scientific expedition to Siberia.”
“Siberia! Jeezus! Why not the moon?”
“Don’t worry. The people who pay the bills here at the foundation have a long reach. They frequently do business in Russia and were able to put me in touch with a gentleman in Moscow. He notified his people in Siberia, and they tracked Ms. Janos down to a remote island. They’ll kidnap and hold her. In the meantime, a team is on its way to interrogate her to see what she knows.”
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