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“The tent was rattling like a banshee all night because of that dreadful wind, but I think I still managed to get a couple of hours’ sleep,” replied Reynolds.

Dressed in warm clothing, Katherine Reynolds looked like the public’s stereotypical image of a scientist. She wore a thick pair of glasses perched on her nose. She was in her mid-forties and had never been married. Her chestnut-brown hair was always pulled back in a bun on the back of her head.

“I didn’t hear a thing. I slept, how you say… like a baby,” replied Zakhava.

“That’s probably because you were pickled on vodka last night, Professor,” said Donald Freeman as he placed several bone fragments on the table in front of him. A young African-American grad student, Freeman was on his first dig outside of the States.

Zakhava chuckled. “It is an old family custom.”

“Looks like all of Russia follows the same tradition,” added Freeman, as none of the other Russian students had reported in yet this morning.

Reynolds grabbed herself a cup of hot coffee and then wrapped her hands around the cup, trying to warm up her still cold hands. A few seconds later, curiosity took hold, so she walked over and looked at what Freeman was doing.

With a serious expression on his face, Freeman looked down intently at the remains of a chipped tooth from a woolly rhinoceros dug out of the permafrost a couple of days ago. Although the tooth was an interesting discovery, the team still hoped to find the remains of a mammoth. Over the years, several well-preserved mammoths had been found frozen in the ice near the camp.

Three weeks into the one-month dig, it was starting to look like this year’s expedition was going to have to pack up and go home emptied-handed when Mary Thomas and Vladimir Manshov suddenly burst into the tent. A young couple, they had met the first day on the island and had since become inseparable.

“Come quick,” said Mary breathlessly.

“What is it?” asked Zakhava.

“In the tunnel, they’ve found something,” reported Manshov in fluent English.

“What did they find?” asked Reynolds excitedly.

“A mammoth, they’ve found a baby mammoth,” replied Mary, smiling from ear to ear.

“Come on, let’s get dressed and see what they’ve found,” said Zakhava, grinning.

A couple of minutes later, Zakhava led the group through the blowing snow towards the tunnel entrance. A large wooden box had been built over the top of the opening to keep the snow from blowing down into the tunnel. They all rushed out of the wind, made their way down steps cut into the ice and walked down a tunnel carved into the frozen ground. A noisy, gas-powered generator provided the power for the lights strung along the ice walls of the passage. Dug out over the past several years, the tunnel had become a passageway back in time to the last Ice Age. It was here where they had found a mammoth the year before and where another expedition had found the partial remains of a woolly rhinoceros.

The air hovered around freezing inside the tunnel.

They hurried along, making their way towards a group of students huddled around a large slab of ice. Zakhava and Reynolds arrived first and bent over to examine the find.

“My God,” murmured Reynolds. Trapped in the ice was a perfectly preserved baby mammoth. Although it was hard to see all the details, she judged by its small size that it had been no more than a couple of years old when it had died.

“You can still see the fur on the poor little creature’s body,” said Zakhava as he moved his face close to the ice. His breath hung like a fine fog in the cool air. “Who found it?”

“I did, Professor,” said Olga Zhukov proudly. The cheeks on her round face were deep red from the numbing cold. With ice-blue eyes and braided blonde hair, she looked like a Viking maiden.

“Well done, Olga,” said Zakhava. He patted her on the shoulder and looked around into the faces of the students. They all stood there in awe of the discovery. Some people labored a lifetime and never found a single specimen, yet at their feet was a find of extraordinary importance.

“Okay, people, let’s all step back. We don’t need to contaminate the site any more than we already have,” announced Zakhava loudly.

With that, Dimitri Isayev, a black-haired associate professor at the University of Moscow, took over and ushered away all those who didn’t need to be there.

Reynolds stood there, her light-brown eyes fixed on the mammoth trapped for centuries in the ice.

“When do you believe it died?” Reynolds asked Zakhava.

“Well, it was found a bit deeper in the ice than the mammoth that was dug out last year, so I would have to say sometime around 11,000 BC,” replied Zakhava, absentmindedly running his hand over his thick beard.

“Amazing, absolutely amazing.” Reynolds softly ran her gloved hand over the ice, trying to imagine the world the mammoth had lived in until it met its untimely demise.

Later that night, after a couple of the more-experienced team members brought the frozen body of the mammoth to the surface, the camp had a boisterous celebration. Olga Zhukov was the woman of the hour. Vodka and plenty other spirits flowed freely as they toasted Olga and the mammoth.

It didn’t take long for Katherine Reynolds to feel tipsy from the alcohol. Never a big drinker, she was already on her third plastic cup of vodka and fruit juice.

“To the mammoth,” shouted out Zakhava, raising his cup in salute.

“To the mammoth,” responded the students loudly, before emptying their cups and then staggering about in search of more alcohol.

“Did you inform the universities in Moscow and Yakutsk about the discovery?” Reynolds asked Zakhava. She realized that she was slurring her words and set her cup down. That was enough for one night.

“Yes, I emailed them the pictures we took in the tunnel before coming over here,” replied Zakhava, offering some of the still-half-full bottle of vodka in his hand to Reynolds.

“No, thanks. I think I’ve had more than enough for one evening.”

“Suit yourself. Plenty more for me,” said Zakhava, winking at Reynolds.

She took that as her cue to leave. Reynolds stood up and with as much grace as she could muster after drinking a little too much, she moved about the room saying her goodnights before stepping outside. She quickly pulled on her thick woolen gloves and zipped up her down-filled parka. For a few seconds, she chose to ignore the cold and looked up into the night sky. Reynolds was always amazed how brilliantly clear the sky became when a person was far away from the light pollution of a major city. A bit of an astronomy buff, she could easily recognize the North Star, Venus, and Mars in the night sky. With a smile, she watched a meteor brightly streak across the heavens. After a quick stop at the bathroom, Reynolds opened the flap to her tent and crawled inside. In no time, she was in her nice, warm sleeping bag, fast asleep.

Several hours later, Reynolds rolled over on her cot. Her full bladder was screaming at her to get up and walk the ten meters through the cold to the washroom. It was coming up on five in the morning. With a few choice curse words on her lips, she unzipped her warm sleeping bag and quickly jumped out. When it was this cold, Reynolds always slept in her favorite red long underwear. Mumbling to herself, she threw on her parka and boots. Without bothering to do either of them up, she opened up her tent flap and crawled out into the frigid morning air. Almost immediately, she was aware of a rhythmic beating sound somewhere in the dark. At first, she thought it was from her hangover, but the sound seemed to grow closer by the second. On the horizon, she could just make out three flashing red lights flying a few meters above the icy ground, moving incredibly fast towards their camp. Reynolds instantly forgot about her bladder and jogged over to the tent they used for their office. She was a little surprised to find the room empty. It was camp policy that one of the Russian staff members was on duty throughout the night while everyone else slept. It was a prudent security measure, in case there was a fire or another emergency.