“Francis, I know you are a smart guy. You figured out the meaning of the numbers, and you also guessed the combination for the cabinet in the outer shed. So, I’m wondering; after having a little time to absorb and reflect, what are your thoughts about the weapons stored out there?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, why are they there in the first place? Why are they American? Why did Sokolov know about them and why did he want you to know about them? I cannot help but believe that there is some significance to the answers to these questions and I have no idea what they are.”
Hamlin sat in Sokolov’s chair. There was no longer any need to feel guilty about it, he figured. He drew in a lungful of air, held it, and then blew it out in an audible stream.
“Lena, I don’t know. There’s so much going on here that I don’t understand. I came here based on the face value of a request to assist with some biological research. I knew almost nothing about this place when I got here.”
“And now?”
“And now it seems to me that there are many undercurrents in play in Vostok. There is intrigue and treachery; deceit and politics. It feels like there are things going on just below the surface that I don’t comprehend. And that makes it difficult for me to understand something as weird and unexpected as a locker full of high powered weapons made in the good old U.S.A. On my first day in the lab, Konstantine wrote a note to tell me that the room was bugged. That was because I was talking to him about Sokolov and he didn’t want to participate. Why is that?”
“Are you being rhetorical?”
“Only if you don’t have a meaningful response.”
She looked around the room as if all the answers were sitting on a shelf or hanging on the wall.
“Sokolov was a type of puppet. He represented the government and had the task of keeping us productive, and keeping us in line. He could be supportive when it was beneficial for his purposes, but he would also sell any of us out in an instant. I have no doubt that there is a file on each of us somewhere in this room, either paper or electronic. Probably even for you.”
“Me?”
“The rumor was that this was his last work term here. Once spring arrived, he was going back to Moscow, and then retiring to some sort of meaningless post in Cuba. Sandy beaches, year round warmth, and a limitless supply of great rum. Not a bad end for a Russian citizen. Periodically he would have to meet with and entertain some sort of government sanctioned VIP, but other than that, he would be free to conduct his life however he wanted.”
“Really? Somehow Sokolov didn’t strike me as the type that would be happy drinking Daiquiris on the beach while watching the girls walk by.”
She smirked. “Believe it or not, he was an avid arborist. He probably would have been given a home with a backyard that he could transform into his own private tropical paradise. It is not the worst way to spend your declining years.”
“Especially viewed from this deep freeze,” Hamlin said. “So, what does that tell me that will help to figure out our little mystery?”
“I’m just giving you insight. Draw your own conclusions.”
Hamlin made a decision.
“Listen. I’m going to tell you something. I meant to keep it to myself, but I think it plays a role here.”
He could tell that he had her undivided attention.
“Oh,” she said casually, “and what might that be?”
“Well, this is a bit shocking and whole lot disconcerting, but Sokolov said your government had surmised that it was likely that we would find unknown viruses in the lake water before the testing ever started. They wanted us to find them so they could be evaluated as potential biological weapons. As a species, mankind would have no natural resistance to a virus that we had never been exposed to before. He speculated about using them against terrorists. And…he specifically mentioned that my government was interested as well. I got the impression that might have been partially responsible for why I was selected to come here in the first place.”
She looked to be deep in thought. “I see.”
“Unfortunately, even with that knowledge in mind, I have no idea why the weapons are there.”
Lena was deep in thought and didn’t respond.
“Do you?”
She seemed to snap out of it.
“Do I what?”
“Do you have any idea, knowing what I just told you, why the weapons are there?”
She shook her head emphatically. “No. No idea at all.”
“That’s disappointing.” Hamlin replied.
A smile creased her face. “But that information gives us both something to think about. It may be very helpful in the long run. Francis, I think we should go back and watch the movie. No point in having everyone suspicious about our actions. What do you say?”
Her original enthusiasm to get there was now matched by her desire to leave. It seemed equally strong and disconcertingly contradictory. He decided to ponder the implications of that later.
“Sure. I’d hate to miss a classic.”
She pulled him up out of the chair.
“Then be a gentleman, and escort a lady back.”
“Of course.” He opened the door and waited for her to exit. “Right this way, ma’am.”
He lay awake later in bed, meditating on his conversation with Lena. Clearly something he had said caught her attention. Equally clear was the fact that she did not want to discuss it with him. He let numerous scenarios play out in his imagination as he gradually slid into a dreamless state that would see him through the night. Answers would have to wait.
Barinov, as he used to be known before he was attacked and infected, shuffled along through the snow. His new operating temperature made it possible to survive in this extreme cold. It also destroyed his mind.
He didn’t have conscious thoughts above and beyond the occasional flirting notion that flickered across his brain like a person running past a window—only visible for the briefest of moments. But a few baser instincts still survived, such as the one that motivated him now. He was hungry.
He wasn’t capable of formulating a complex plan to find food. Somehow, he had a guidance system that determined his steps, although he had no understanding of it. After meandering in a rather unstructured manner for some time, he turned in the general direction of the base camp where he used to live and work. That was where he’d find food. And that was where his remaining instincts, flawed as they now were, would eventually take him.
Hamlin woke up quickly, the transition from sleep happening smoothly and swiftly. He felt good. He was also still rather excited to take the Cat out and go on meteorite patrol. And he was ready for breakfast.
It didn’t take long to get the news that threatened to steal his good mood away. A storm had settled over them during the night, and high winds now buffeted the area. In the quieter moments, he could hear it blowing while he ate. He sought out Lena for advice.
“Francis, you cannot go out in this. It would be extremely dangerous. Visibility is non-existent and the wind chill in not survivable. Pieces of space rock can wait.”
He really wanted to argue. Sitting around pointlessly for another day was not on his agenda.
“Look, I can take a lanyard and clip myself in if I find something. That way I stay attached to the Cat.”
“You would freeze. Every square inch of your skin would have to be covered at all times or the wind would give you frostbite instantaneously.”
“Well, I could just run the grid pattern. If I find anything, I could just mark it as a waypoint. Then tomorrow or whenever this breaks, I could drive straight to it. It’s still a great way to be more productive.”
“And it gets you out of the barracks for a while.”