“Ah, a deck. Tell me Francis, do you have a big deck?”
“I thought that was an American joke.”
“I have to practice if I’m going there with you.”
“I suppose you have a valid point.”
It was at this juncture that Sokolov made an appearance. He walked briskly to the kitchen and came back with a coffee in his hands. He sat across from Hamlin and smiled. He was wearing a short-sleeved shirt and that was a first. Francis was surprised that one even existed down here. Even in the summer, it would serve little purpose.
“Good morning, Doctor. Ms. Sayansky, how are you?”
“You seem chipper,” Hamlin said, stating the obvious.
“So far, my good doctor, there are no ill effects. Surprisingly, I slept well. I feel fine. No aches, pains or signs of a fever.”
“Your shirt gives you a dapper look. Trying to stay cool, I suppose?”
“Yes, and why not? If you recall, Kuvayev responded to some extent to our physical efforts to keep him cool. At any rate, I can’t imagine that it could hurt in any way.”
“I can’t argue against that.”
“Perhaps when you finish, Ms. Sayansky, you would consider changing the dressing on my wound. Again, keeping it clean certainly can’t hurt.”
Hamlin was finding himself relieved that Sokolov seemed so healthy. Maybe they had a chance after all—assuming, at least, that they could stay clear of Pechkin and Kuvayev. Obviously Konstantine wouldn’t be reanimating any time soon. Hamlin winced at the very thought and regretted having it.
“Yes, of course. I would be happy to help in any way.” Lena gave him a big smile.
“Excellent. Thank you, my dear. Now, I’m going to take my black coffee over a table and talk to Yedemsky for a few moments. He looks a little worse for wear this morning. Excuse me, please.”
When he left, an awkward silence fell over them. Hamlin sipped his coffee. Lena leaned in toward him and lowered her voice.
“Do you really think he is all right?”
Hamlin had no idea how to answer that. But, he had to respond in some fashion.
“I don’t know. I sure hope and pray that he is. So far, so good.”
She didn’t seem satisfied with his answer. But then again, Hamlin reasoned, she had been through plenty of government sanctioned bullshit before. She no doubt expected Sokolov to lie through his teeth. Hamlin thought that as manager of the site, Sokolov had been relatively forthcoming so far. But he would have to be watched very closely for the next few days or so. If Sokolov lied about how he felt and nobody else was checking, they could all be in big trouble.
The first activity for the day was to send out hunting parties. Three men—consisting of a driver, a spotter/navigator, and the one responsible for carrying and using the gun—would set out for two-hour patrols. After that, the Cat would undergo a very quick mechanical check and the crew would be spelled off. That way, so their reasoning went, everyone on patrol would always be fresh and alert. The two-way radio would be constantly monitored by someone back at the barracks. The initial search grid was rejected in favor of a course that kept them close to all the various buildings for the camp. This seemed to be an anchor point for the two specters that were currently haunting them. Anything else seemed to be more of a needle in a haystack venture anyway, since the two were likely to be in constant motion.
Once the Cat left, Sokolov managed to convince the remaining members that the common area, the large room where they met as a group to eat and hold other activities, was overdue for a good cleaning. They assigned specific tasks, and then went about the business of locating and preparing all the needed supplies. Lena went with Sokolov to change his dressing. When she returned, she had a message for Hamlin.
“He wants to see you in his room.”
Hamlin put down the bucket of soapy water he was holding.
“Okay, I guess this can wait.”
“We can trade spots,” she said. “After you are finished with him, we’ll fight over who keeps this job.”
“When you say fight, I hope you mean wrestle.”
“Grope is a good word.”
“At least we’re both on the same page. And yes, it is.” Hamlin finally managed to pull off his disposable gloves and headed for Sokolov’s room.
“Yes, come in, Doctor. And if you wouldn’t mind, could you shut the door behind you?”
“Of course.” Hamlin tried to be casual and relaxed as he took the seat at the front of the desk.
“Very good. I feel it necessary to verbalize several thoughts, and as you now know, I trust you with these more controversial details. You have proved to be more levelheaded and resourceful than I would have expected. And I believe you are capable of separating yourself from your personal agenda and putting the good of the station first when difficult decisions need to be made.”
“Are we facing difficult decisions?” Hamlin was not thrilled with the beginning of the conversation.
“We already have, of course,” Sokolov replied. “But it is not beyond probability that more will be coming shortly. I think you and I need to discuss the future of the station if something should happen to me.”
Hamlin hated this, but he knew Sokolov was right.
“And what do you think that’s going to look like?”
“I think,” he said, “that it’s going to look like you.”
Hamlin winced. “That sounds like a bad idea to me. Why would all these experienced researchers, who have all paid their dues down here, accept a newcomer, and a foreigner at that, as their new overseer?”
Sokolov managed a smile despite the dark composition of their topic.
“I think ‘overseer’ is a bit strong and outdated, even for Russia. The truth is, your democratic urgings notwithstanding, there will be times when it is absolutely necessary for someone to have the will and ability to make unilateral decisions on behalf of the entire group. Otherwise, anarchy and discord are knocking at your door. These people all have too much history and emotional attachment to each other to do this task impartially. Familiarity breeds contempt. An abundance of casual and friendly contact ensures a lack of sufficient respect for each other to the point where they would not become subservient to the will of anyone else here. Or at least anyone that they know well.”
“And that’s where I come in.”
“In my opinion, yes.”
“Great.”
“Your leadership skills may be the only hope for these people to ever leave this place alive. I trust you will not take the task lightly.”
“Should it ever become necessary. Let’s not wave the white flag just yet.”
“That goes without saying, of course. But this discussion has to happen now, while we have the opportunity, and I am completely in my own, right mind.”
Hamlin shook his head. “You know, this is all Deborah’s fault. If she hadn’t dumped me like a bag of garbage on the curb, I never would have considered coming here. I’d be doing research in Africa, complaining about the heat and mosquitos. It would sure beat the hell out of this, though.”
Sokolov sat quietly for some time before responding. “If you are going to be in charge, to some degree at least, it is time we had a long discussion. I’m going to be forthcoming about details which cannot leave this room. And that restriction will have to continue if anything happens to me. Do you understand?”
“What a mess. Yeah, I understand.”
“Your lack of enthusiasm is completely understandable and justified. Having said that, let me start at what I perceive as to be the beginning.”
“All right. Let the bombardment begin.”
“Please promise me that you will not respond emotionally. Nor will you share any of this with anyone, at any time.”