by Bryan Dunn
“Yes, we have many of those colorful accounts on file,” Hyde said, puffing on his pipe. “I was also hoping some new recollection from the scene of the wreck may have come to you. Something that might not have seemed relevant at first.” Hyde paused, then added, “The truth is, Mr. McNills, you’re our only witness.”
“I’ve racked my brain, Inspector. I’ve been over that stretch of ocean in my mind a hundred times.” Harry shook his head. “It’s still a mystery.”
Hyde puffed on his pipe contemplatively, keeping his eyes on Harry.
“Inspector, what about the hair you found on Porter’s body? I can’t get that out of my mind.”
Hyde removed his pipe and dropped it into a coat pocket. “Still has everyone scratching their heads. No one seems to know. We’re waiting for the results from the second set of samples that were sent to experts in the United States.”
“Hair experts?” Harry said, shaking his head. Then suddenly he had an idea. “Inspector, two research biologists from New York City have chartered my plane for a week. They seem pretty savvy – have a field lab set up at the airport and everything. I think we should show them that hair sample… Who knows?”
“Biologists, you say?” Hyde asked, suddenly very curious.
“Yes, from a company called Cryolabs,” Harry said. “They’re studying freeze- tolerant organisms – microbes and nematodes.”
“Nematodes,” the inspector echoed. Then he scratched his nose and narrowed his eyes. “Sure, why not. I’d be interested to hear what they think.”
* * * *
Harry and Inspector Hyde entered Hanger One and were both caught off-guard by all the scientific equipment. They stood gawking, shifting their eyes left and right.
“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen you speechless, Mr. McNills,” Amy said with a welcoming smile.
Harry turned his attention to Amy, who was joined by an officious-looking Lockwood. “Dr. Tyler, Dr. Lockwood, this is Inspector Roland Hyde with the Royal Newfoundland Constabulary. He’s heading up the investigation of the Ice Machine tragedy.”
A look of surprise flashed across Lockwood’s face. “Are we suspects, Inspector?” Lockwood asked incredulously.
“No, no. Of course not.” Hyde motioned toward Harry. “Mr. McNills suggested you might be willing to examine a piece of evidence for the department. You’d be doing us a courtesy.” Hyde reached into a pocket and produced a plastic evidence bag. “We have quite a little mystery on our hands.”
Amy’s and Lockwood’s eyes shifted toward the bag, suddenly overcome with curiosity.
Hyde held the bag out. Lockwood took it, holding it up to his eyes. “A hair?” he said, his voice full of surprise. He held it up to an overhead light. “Looks like some sort of brindle-colored animal hair.”
Lockwood handed the bag to Amy.
“Everyone’s in agreement on that,” Hyde said. “The tricky part is – what sort of animal did it come from? Oh, and the hair was originally translucent. The sample in that bag is soaked with blood.”
Lockwood arched his eyebrows on the word blood. Amy walked over to a lab bench and held the bag beneath a light to get a better look.
“Even with the blood, Inspector,” Lockwood said, “it should be a relatively simple process of elimination.”
“Every known Arctic species has been crossed against it. It defies identification. All matches come back negative. Oh, and one other thing,” Hyde added. “It’s at least five thousand years old.”
Lockwood’s eyes widened and he flattened his lips. A long silence followed as he thought about what the inspector had just said. “Well, Inspector, we’re microbiologists, not zoologists. I don’t see how we can help.” Then Lockwood added, “Have you done DNA testing?”
“Samples have been sent to labs in Montreal and the United States. The initial results left experts confused and suggested that the data was unreliable and probably false, and that the samples had probably been tainted or contaminated when they were collected. A new group of samples have been sent and we’re still waiting for the forensics.”
Lockwood nodded. “Well, Inspector, I’m sure that waiting for evidence is all in a day’s work. Now if you’ll excuse us, we have a freezer full of samples to examine.”
Harry gave Hyde a shrug and a it-was-worth-a-try look.
“Wait,” Amy said, approaching the inspector with the bag. “If that’s blood, we could soak it off in a saline solution, centrifuge it, and do a simple blood analysis. Might reveal something.”
“The department would be most grateful for any light you might be able to shed on the case, Dr. Tyler,” Hyde said warmly.
“Hold on, Dr. Tyler,” Lockwood said, puffing himself up and stepping forward.
“We don’t have time for some wild goose chase. Cryolabs didn’t send you up here to play amateur sleuth.”
“I’ll run the tests tonight, Dr. Lockwood,” Amy said defiantly, “on my own time.”
Lockwood’s face darkened. He gave her an icy stare. “Field work isn’t a nine to five job, doctor. Just be sure that it doesn’t interfere with our work.”
“Thank you, Dr. Tyler,” Hyde said, handing Amy a card. Then he turned and addressed Lockwood. “We won’t take up any more of your time, sir.”
Chapter 11
It was 8 p.m. in the Frozen Coconut, and the pub had already achieved a dull roar.
A couple danced by a jukebox and workers lined the bar, telling lies and tossing back shots of whisky.
Harry, Boots, and Nowhere Man sat in a booth talking and trying to ignore the noise. Boots and Nowhere Man were working their way through a pitcher of beer; Harry was nursing a cup of coffee.
“What’s the deal, Harry?” Nowhere asked, taking a sip of beer. “Why the coffee drinking all of a sudden?”
Harry cut his eyes toward Nowhere Man. “I’m flying tomorrow.”
“Never stopped you before,” Nowhere Man chuckled.
“He’s sweet on that woman scientist,” Boots said, laughing. “He’s trying to impress her – that’s what it is.”
“Boots, shut up,” Harry snapped, but you could hear the defensiveness in his voice. “Don’t listen to him, Nowhere, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
Nowhere Man laughed. “If you think sitting here with Boots and me and drinking coffee is going to get you into her pants – you’re kidding yourself, McNills. But by all means, go ahead and suffer.”
“Both of you shut-the-hell-up! Jesus!” Harry exploded. “I’m not the least bit interested in Dr. Tyler. Got it?”
Nowhere Man and Boots exchanged glances. Neither of them dared say anything else.
* * * *
Amy waited for the centrifuge to stop spinning, removed the test, tube and saw that the blood had separated into serum and red and white blood cells. She removed some of the red blood cells and transferred them into a glass dish, then ran a simple precipitin test to determine the origin of the blood. As the test took effect, a thin opaque line appeared between two sets of red blood cells – telling her that the blood sample contained both human and animal red cells, and the animal blood was clearly mammalian.
Amy thought to herself that the results made sense, if this man Porter had encountered some wild animal.
Curious to learn more, she stained a slide with a small amount of the animal blood cells, placed it beneath the Zeiss microscope, and leaned over the stereo eyepiece, adjusting the light and focus.
What she saw amazed her. The red blood cells were the largest she’d ever seen in her life. Under magnification they looked like beach balls. And the blood count was off the chart. She checked and rechecked the equipment, thinking the optics may have been damaged, but everything checked out fine.
She removed the slide, then suddenly got the idea to test the cells for freeze tolerance. After all, that’s what this lab was all about.
Amy flash-froze the red cells in a liquid nitrogen solution, then placed the slide back under the mi
croscope. As she bent over the eyepiece, she suddenly sucked in her breath, disbelieving what she was seeing.
“My God. It can’t be…”
* * * *
Inside the Frozen Coconut the noise had ratcheted up and the dance floor was full.
Harry, Boots, and Nowhere Man were polishing off a round of steak sandwiches. Nowhere Man pushed his plate forward, leaned back, and looked at Harry. “So you’ve fallen for this Dr. Tyler babe, eh Harry?” Nowhere Man, not letting it go, was enjoying the fun at Harry’s expense.
Harry finished a mouthful of food, then looked at Nowhere Man. “I haven’t fallen for anyone,” he insisted, shaking his head. “Dr. Tyler is just a client. Besides, she’s uptight and she’s from New York City.”
“All you have to say is she’s from New York City.”
“Harry…” Boots said in a nervous voice.
Ignoring Boots, Harry added. “For all I know she’s totally frigid!”
And on the word “frigid,” from directly behind them, where she’d just heard everything said, Amy stepped up to the booth. “Harry…”
They all looked up, shocked to see her standing there.
“Good evening, Dr. Tyler. Harry was just talking about you,” Nowhere Man said, breaking the silence and trying to keep from laughing.
“Ah, Amy… I mean, Dr. Tyler…” was all Harry could manage.
“I can’t believe it,” Amy said.
“What?” Harry asked sheepishly.
“You’re drinking coffee?”
Silence. Then it was too much for Boots and Nowhere Man, and they erupted in laughter.
* * * *
Across the street from the Frozen Coconut, Harry and Amy were sitting in the cab of Harry’s pickup truck, talking.
“Harry, it’s unbelievable. I’ve never seen anything like it,” Amy said excitedly. “I repeated the experiment, then checked and rechecked the results. There was absolutely no corruption of the cell walls. There was no cell damage at all! Harry, this could be the Holy Grail!”
Harry held up a hand. “Wait a minute. Slow down. Now, tell me again in English.”
“In mammalian blood cells – I’m talking about you and me or any other warm-blooded vertebrate that nurses their young – if the animal or the blood from the animal is frozen, there will be cell damage and ultimately death or destruction of the exposed cells.
Mammals can’t be frozen and then thawed out. But if my results are accurate, then whatever sort of animal that blood came from defies everything we know about intracellular freeze tolerance.”
“Hold on. Are you saying that you think some animal or creature got defrosted on that iceberg, then attacked Porter?”
“No. I think there’s some reasonable explanation for what happened to Porter. But what I saw under that microscope has got my head spinning.”
“Yeah,” Harry said flatly. “I’m starting to feel a little dizzy myself.”
“What did they find on that iceberg, Harry?” Amy asked, her voice making it sound less like a question and more like a demand.
“Nothing. No bodies. No more chunks of Porter, and, by the way, no frozen creatures that had come back from the dead.” Harry let out a frustrated breath. “The iceberg rolled. Any evidence that might have been left was destroyed or lost. Divers were sent down. They picked over every inch of that berg and found nothing.”
“Harry, remember that iceberg we saw – the huge one – the first day we went flying?”
“Yeah, sure…” he nodded.
“I think whatever I saw on it might be connected to this. There could be a link.”
“Oh, come on. What makes you think that?” Harry said skeptically.
“Harry, listen – those icebergs must’ve been made – ”
“Calved,” Harry said, correcting her.
“Calved, at the same time. Right? There’s no other way they could be floating down Iceberg Alley together, right?” Amy was up on the edge of the seat, her eyes shining with excitement.
“Yeah, sure, I suppose that’s right.”
“Okay, all I’m saying is what if some group or village or hunting party got trapped together, frozen, and now thousands of years later – they’re exposed in melting icebergs?”
“Interesting theory,” Harry said, thinking about the possibility.
“Harry, we’ve got to go back to that iceberg,” she said, her voice filled with urgency. “I can’t stop thinking about what I saw. I can’t get it out of my mind – and now, after this…”
“Look, I can probably find it again, no problem. But all we could do is fly over it.”
“No, we’ve got to get on it. We’ve got to land on that iceberg and find out what’s trapped in the ice.”
“What about Lockwood? He’s not going to just let you go off on some wild goose chase – I think those were his words.”
“We’re not going to tell him. Besides, when he sees the note I left him – then checks the results – he’s going to be as excited as I am.”
“Hold it. Hold on a minute. All this excitement is great, but it ain’t going to get you on that iceberg. That’s a tall order. There’s only one way to land on an iceberg – and that’s with a helicopter. And the only chopper capable of getting out there just happens to belong to the United States Coast Guard – and they kind of frown on taking civilians sightseeing.”
“I’m not talking about sightseeing, and you know it,” Amy said tersely. Then she looked at Harry and narrowed her eyes. “What about your friend – you know, the Coast Guard pilot?”
“Nowhere Man – ?” Harry squinted.
“Right. What about him?”
“Ha! He’d never go for it. And I wouldn’t blame him.”
“Harry, please, it’s worth a try. And maybe it’ll shed some light on what happened to your friends.”
Harry studied Amy’s face, and, seeing the determination in her eyes, realized he’d just gotten crossways of an oncoming train. “Why do I get talked into things like this?” he said, shaking his head.
“Oh, and for the record,” Amy leaned over and kissed Harry on the cheek, “I’m not frigid.”
* * * *
Harry and Amy had returned to the Frozen Coconut and were back in the booth with Nowhere Man and Boots.
“You want me to do what?” Nowhere Man asked incredulously.
“I said, I want you to fly Dr. Tyler and me out to an iceberg,” Harry repeated matter-of-factly.
“An iceberg? What iceberg? Where –?”
“Approximately fifty miles southwest of here – I’ve got a good fix on its position.”
Nowhere Man laughed, but his heart wasn’t in it. He looked at Amy, then back to Harry. These guys weren’t kidding. They really wanted him to do it. “Let me get this straight – you want me to boost twenty million dollars worth of government equipment – and go for a joyride?”
Silence. Harry and Amy just stared at Nowhere Man.
Chapter 12
High Above The Newfoundland Coast
A low fog shrouded the coastline in the pre-dawn light. A dull thump, thump, thump echoed across the silent sea.
The low thumping turned into the high-pitched whine of jet engines – and a sleek red and white UH-60 Black Hawk helicopter broke out of the fog and banked toward the Atlantic. Its twin GE turbines, extra fuel tanks, five hundred-mile range, and all-weather capabilities made it one of the Coast Guard’s most effective search and rescue aircraft.
Inside the Black Hawk’s cockpit, Nowhere Man was at the controls and Boots was flying shotgun. Behind them, seated in the crew compartment, dressed in flight suits and helmets, were Harry and Amy.
Harry leaned forward. “What did you tell them this time, Nowhere?” he asked, yelling above the shrieking turbines.
Nowhere Man looked back at Harry. “We’re testing a new rotor,” then he hooked a thumb at Boots, “and this isn’t Boots, it’s Lieutenant Cushman. And you and Dr. Tyler aren’t even on board.”
Har
ry laughed and nodded. “Well, stay healthy –” he looked at Boots. “Because there’s no way Boots is qualified for the number two seat in this bird.”
“I’m checked out on Hueys, Harry.” Boots said defensively.
“”But nothing this heavy.”
“All cats are gray in the dark.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Hey, Boots, keep your love life out of this,” Nowhere Man said, laughing.
Nowhere Man turned, called back to Amy. “Comfortable, Doctor?”
Amy smiled, then gave him a thumbs-up. “Yes, fine. And please call me Amy.”
Nowhere Man nodded and returned the thumbs-up.
“So, why do they call you Nowhere Man?”
“It’s a long story, ma’am. Amy.”
“It was during Desert Storm, you know, The Gulf War,” Harry said. “Nowhere Man here decides to play Arabian Nights. Takes off one evening for a walk in the desert and gets lost for a week. After that, he was called Nowhere Man.”
“Man, it was something out there,” Nowhere Man said dreamily. “It was like rapture. I could’ve just kept walking and walking.”
“Right,” Harry added, “until a Ranger unit almost ventilated him with .50 caliber machine gun rounds.”
“Yeah, that was sort of a bummer,” Nowhere Man said dryly.
“Excuse me, but will someone please tell me exactly where the heck we’re headed?” Boots asked.
Harry reached into his flight suit, removed a slip of paper, moved forward and handed it to Boots. “Set your course to these coordinates.”
Boots studied the paper, then got busy punching numbers into the Navstar GPS.
Harry dropped back into his seat, fastened his seatbelt, and turned to Amy. “So, what about Lockwood, he give you any trouble?”
“I didn’t give him a chance. I was up and out of the hotel at four in the morning. Besides, when he gets a look at that blood – he’s going to be too excited to be mad.”
* * * *
Inside Hanger One, Lockwood was bent over a microscope. He focused, then refocused, never blinking or moving from the eyepiece. A long silent beat, then he straightened up with a stunned look on his face. “Remarkable…” he whispered in an awed voice.