Decipher by Stel Pavlou Page B

the way. Offered him some barbecued mammoth, but he wasn’t having any of it. They ignored him from then on. He might be their boss, but the guy obviously had no appreciation of the finer delicacies.
    Houghton coughed on the smoke. “How long has that thing been in the ground?”
    Sarah was climbing the bank. She turned back. “Twelve, maybe fourteen thousand years. At the very least.”
    â€œAnd they’re gonna eat it? They must be crazy. It’ll kill ’em.”
    Sarah just shook her head. This guy Houghton was an idiot; she could tell that much already. “I doubt it,” she said. She took another step but they weren’t following. Hadn’t they read the report on this place? Mammoths were turning up all over this region. There was a famous case from 1902 when one had been found in a bank just down the river from here. The same river. “It was super-frozen,” she explained.
    â€œHuh? It was what?”
    â€œThe Arctic isn’t cold enough to freeze something the size of a mammoth without ice crystals forming in the blood and spoiling the meat. That mammoth was supercooled. The temperature had to be around minus 100°C. It was dead inside thirty minutes, and encased in permafrosted silt about the same time. Perfect preservation. The meat’s fine. It’s just … very old.”
    Houghton was stunned. “How’s that possible? What could cause that kind of destruction?”
    â€œAnd before the advent of the refrigerator …” the guy with the cigar chipped in.
    â€œHow the hell should I know?” Sarah shrugged.
    â€œWell, uh, you’re a geologist, you must have some idea.”
    Sarah wasn’t listening. She was climbing the bank. Houghton eyed the mammoth again. “I wonder what it tastes like,” he mused.
    â€œChicken,” the other guy smirked, and puffed on his cigar.
    Houghton shot him a glance. He didn’t seem to know if he was being played with or not. He looked for Sarah. She was heading away from them, back to her 4x4. They climbed up out of the pit behind her. But Houghton couldn’t
help but pause briefly and take another lingering look at the mammoth. Dignified even in death. “Wow.”
    Lustgarten was raising his fist, directing the driver in the cab of the bulldozer to shift into reverse. There was a mechanical roar as they started to drag the animal out of their foundations. Houghton did a double take and realized they were losing Sarah. He chased after her.
    Â 
    â€œMs. Kelsey! Wait up, please! This is important. This is company business.” He slipped on the mud. Tried not to land on his ass. “Ms. Kelsey!”
    Ripping the driver’s side door open, she said: “I’m just getting my purse, is that okay with you?” She slammed it shut again. Reached for a cigarette. The other guy accommodated with a light. She eyed him suspiciously. No wonder she didn’t recognize him—he was wearing a ski mask. She couldn’t see him. “Who’re you?” she demanded.
    â€œBulger,” he said. “Jack Bulger. Chief Field Engineer with Rola Corp. We’re practically family.”
    She sucked down some smoke. Nodded. “Oh.”
    â€œGee, Ms. Kelsey, I’d really appreciate it if you could explain more about this super-freezing business,” Houghton said. He was acting like a real nerd, but he was far from actually being one. He was too slimy. She was only just starting to realize that about him. He eyed her stonily. “I’d be real appreciative. After all, you’re supposed to be the star of the company, but just how much geology do you really know? Only the company’s thinking of downsizing and I’m here on orders from the highest regard.”
    She blew smoke. That had caught her attention. “How high?” she asked.
    â€œThe highest.”
    A cheap test. Maybe he wasn’t so stupid after all. What the hell.