something else I don’t understand. Why does a host need to fly all the way up here? Why can’t she add her narration back in New York, when the film is cut and edited?”
“Because we’re not just talking about narration,” Conti replied. “We’re talking about a docudrama. A
huge
docudrama.”
Marshall frowned. “What does that have to do with our work here? Or with the cat we discovered?”
At this, Conti gave a faint smile. “It has
everything
to do with the cat, Professor Marshall. You see, we’re going up the mountain to cut it out of the ice.”
Marshall felt a chill of disbelief settle over him. “
Cut
it out, you said?”
“In a single block. For transport back to our specially prepared vault. The vault will be sealed, the block of ice melted under controlled conditions.” Conti paused for effect. “And when the vault is unsealed again, it’s going to be done live, right here-before an audience of ten million viewers.”
8
For a moment, Marshall felt almost too dazed to speak. And then, as quickly as it had come, the feeling of disbelief vanished, flushed away by an anger he wasn’t even aware he’d been keeping in check.
“I’m sorry,” he said, surprised by the calmness of his own voice, “but that isn’t going to happen.”
The smile didn’t leave Conti’s face. “No?”
“No, it’s not.”
“And why is that?”
As the producer asked this question, Marshall saw Sully approaching from the direction of the base. No doubt he’d heard the commotion of Conti’s last shot and come to investigate. The climatologist had been fawning over Conti every chance he had, eager to curry favor and perhaps land a supporting role in the production.
“Mr. Conti has just told me the real reason they’re here,” Marshall said as Sully joined the group.
“Oh?” Sully asked. “What’s that?”
“They want to cut the Smilodon out of the ice cave and thaw it in front of live television cameras.”
Sully blinked in surprise at this revelation, but said nothing.
Marshall turned back to the producer. “It’s one thing for you to take over our base, interrupt our research, let your people treat us like squatters. But I’m not going to allow you to jeopardize our work.”
Conti folded one arm over the other. Marshall realized Ekberg was staring at him intently.
“That carcass represents an important-maybe hugely important-scientific discovery,” he continued. “It’s not some cheap publicity stunt you can exploit for your own ends. If that’s why you came up here, I’m sorry you wasted your time and money. But you might as well pack up and leave now.”
Sully seemed to master his surprise and hear Marshall once again. “Ah, Evan, there’s really no need-”
“And
another
thing,” Marshall spoke over Sully. “I’ve already told Ms. Ekberg here: that cave is unsafe. The vibration of heavy equipment could bring the damned thing down on your heads. So even if we didn’t object to your crazy idea, there’s no way we’d grant you access.”
Conti pursed his lips. “I see. Was there anything else?”
Marshall stared at him. “Isn’t that enough? You can’t have the cat. It’s as simple as that.”
He waited for Conti’s response. But instead of replying, the director threw a significant glance at Wolff.
Wolff cleared his throat and spoke for the first time. “Actually, Dr. Marshall, you’re right. It
is
simple: we can do whatever we want.”
Marshall turned toward Wolff, feeling his jaw set in a hard line. “What are you talking about?”
“If we want to cut the cat out of the ice, we can. If we want to chop it up and barbecue it, we can do that, too.” The channel rep reached inside his parka and withdrew a sheaf of papers, which he held out to Marshall.
Marshall didn’t take them. “What’s this?” he asked.
“This is the contract that your Dr. Sully, and the head of NMU’s research department, signed with Terra Prime.”
When Marshall didn’t
“Because we’re not just talking about narration,” Conti replied. “We’re talking about a docudrama. A
huge
docudrama.”
Marshall frowned. “What does that have to do with our work here? Or with the cat we discovered?”
At this, Conti gave a faint smile. “It has
everything
to do with the cat, Professor Marshall. You see, we’re going up the mountain to cut it out of the ice.”
Marshall felt a chill of disbelief settle over him. “
Cut
it out, you said?”
“In a single block. For transport back to our specially prepared vault. The vault will be sealed, the block of ice melted under controlled conditions.” Conti paused for effect. “And when the vault is unsealed again, it’s going to be done live, right here-before an audience of ten million viewers.”
8
For a moment, Marshall felt almost too dazed to speak. And then, as quickly as it had come, the feeling of disbelief vanished, flushed away by an anger he wasn’t even aware he’d been keeping in check.
“I’m sorry,” he said, surprised by the calmness of his own voice, “but that isn’t going to happen.”
The smile didn’t leave Conti’s face. “No?”
“No, it’s not.”
“And why is that?”
As the producer asked this question, Marshall saw Sully approaching from the direction of the base. No doubt he’d heard the commotion of Conti’s last shot and come to investigate. The climatologist had been fawning over Conti every chance he had, eager to curry favor and perhaps land a supporting role in the production.
“Mr. Conti has just told me the real reason they’re here,” Marshall said as Sully joined the group.
“Oh?” Sully asked. “What’s that?”
“They want to cut the Smilodon out of the ice cave and thaw it in front of live television cameras.”
Sully blinked in surprise at this revelation, but said nothing.
Marshall turned back to the producer. “It’s one thing for you to take over our base, interrupt our research, let your people treat us like squatters. But I’m not going to allow you to jeopardize our work.”
Conti folded one arm over the other. Marshall realized Ekberg was staring at him intently.
“That carcass represents an important-maybe hugely important-scientific discovery,” he continued. “It’s not some cheap publicity stunt you can exploit for your own ends. If that’s why you came up here, I’m sorry you wasted your time and money. But you might as well pack up and leave now.”
Sully seemed to master his surprise and hear Marshall once again. “Ah, Evan, there’s really no need-”
“And
another
thing,” Marshall spoke over Sully. “I’ve already told Ms. Ekberg here: that cave is unsafe. The vibration of heavy equipment could bring the damned thing down on your heads. So even if we didn’t object to your crazy idea, there’s no way we’d grant you access.”
Conti pursed his lips. “I see. Was there anything else?”
Marshall stared at him. “Isn’t that enough? You can’t have the cat. It’s as simple as that.”
He waited for Conti’s response. But instead of replying, the director threw a significant glance at Wolff.
Wolff cleared his throat and spoke for the first time. “Actually, Dr. Marshall, you’re right. It
is
simple: we can do whatever we want.”
Marshall turned toward Wolff, feeling his jaw set in a hard line. “What are you talking about?”
“If we want to cut the cat out of the ice, we can. If we want to chop it up and barbecue it, we can do that, too.” The channel rep reached inside his parka and withdrew a sheaf of papers, which he held out to Marshall.
Marshall didn’t take them. “What’s this?” he asked.
“This is the contract that your Dr. Sully, and the head of NMU’s research department, signed with Terra Prime.”
When Marshall didn’t
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