Colony by Benjamin Cross (best way to read books .TXT) 📕

were smart alright, don’t get me wrong. But in reality they were also the size of a turkey, and their brainpower was nothing on Troodon’s. As far as we know, Troodon had the largest brain relative to body mass of any known dinosaur, and they also had enormous eyes and stereoscopic vision, which would’ve given them a huge advantage during the polar night. We can tell that they thrived here because they got bigger.”

“Their eyes?”

“All of them, the animals themselves. That tooth you’re holding now is twice as big as one you’d expect from a southern Troodon.”

“Steroids in the water?”

“Even better,” she replied. “Rich pickings. Even during the Cretaceous the polar environment would still have been harsh enough to deter most predators, so there would have been plenty of fresh meat for those that could stick out the low temperatures and light, and Troodon was one of them. Evolution took over, and badabing-badabum the Arctic Troodon packed on a few extra pounds of lean, toothy muscle.”

Callum went to place the tooth delicately back beside the others, but Ava took his hand and folded his fingers over it. “For your kid,” she said, smiling. “I know you’ve got a lot of making up to do when you get back. Maybe this’ll help some.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s not like there’s a shortage,” she beamed. “Just keep it to yourself, yeah? I’m not planning on opening a souvenir store.”

Callum slid the fossil into his pocket, where it clinked against the quartz pebble. “He’ll be over the moon, Ava. Thank you.”

Somewhere in the office one of the internal phones began to ring. Ava searched it out from under a pile of oddments and answered it. She turned back to Callum. “Spread the word, communications are back up and running. For how long, nobody knows.”

“Let’s hope they stay up a while,” Callum said, checking his watch. “I’ve got a call with Jamie in an hour. Night, Ava.” He went to leave.

“I meant to ask you,” she called after him. “Did you see Nikolai today?”

“Doctor Semyonov? No, he wasn’t at breakfast.”

“I missed him at lunch too,” Ava said. “Only I took a couple of rock samples for him from Nansen, and he was supposed to pick them up earlier this afternoon.”

Callum smiled. “You know what he’s like. He’s probably stapled his moustache to the desk or something.”

“True. But it’d take more than that to keep the obsessive old grouch from breakfast.”

She was right. Today was the first day Callum could remember when Semyonov hadn’t marched into the dining room at eight sharp, poured himself a coffee and a bowl of cereal, and plonked himself, alone, at the far table overlooking the island. “Have you tried calling him?”

She nodded. “No reply. You’re right, though. I don’t know why I agreed to help the crazy old bastard in the first place.”

“I’ll keep an eye out,” Callum said.

2

Back in his own laboratory, Callum stowed the ski-tip away in a locked cabinet and powered down his computer. In all the excitement earlier that day, he’d forgotten to quiz Lungkaju about the possible symbolism of the dead bird and pottery. The more he’d thought about it since, the more convinced he’d become that they must have formed part of some shamanic practice. There wasn’t much about Nganasan culture that Lungkaju didn’t know, so maybe he could shed some light on it.

Having locked up, he left the lab once more and made his way to the deckhouse elevator. Up on Deck 5, he headed past his own cabin and knocked on the door to 502. “Dan?”

A low voice answered, “That you, McJones?”

“Yes, it’s me, Callum.”

With no attempt whatsoever at a French accent, Peterson called out, “Entrez!”

Entering the room, Callum was as struck by the neatness of the place as he had been by the unexpected disarray in Ava Lee’s laboratory. It was as if the two of them secretly switched personae in private. There was no clutter, not so much as a misplaced sock, and even the air smelt oddly sterile.

Peterson lay stretched out on top of his bed, his arm draped across his face. The midnight sun streamed in over him through the window.

“I brought you these,” Callum said, placing a box of painkillers on the bedside table.

Peterson looked up from underneath his arm and adjusted his horn rims. “That’s very good of you.”

“No bother,” Callum replied. “Archaeology and back pain are bedfellows, so I keep some handy.”

“You keep anything stronger handy? Morphine, maybe?”

Callum laughed and made for the door. “I’ll leave you to rest.”

“McJones? You ever been in love?”

Callum looked back to see Peterson’s eyes wide with anticipation. “Yes, I’ve been in love.”

“At first sight?”

“No, it took me a while to realise.”

“How long’s a while?”

Callum shrugged and perched on the arm of an easy chair facing the bed. “Couple of months, maybe. Something like that.”

“Do you think you could be in love with a person after just a couple of weeks?”

Callum laughed. “Is there something you want to tell me, Dan?”

“No not you, you lamebrain!” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “You know. Ava.”

“Ava Lee?” The team had spent a lot of time together over the last few weeks and Callum had got to know the others well. At least he felt as if he had. And the thought of the no-nonsense Ava Lee and the younger, much more erratic Dan Peterson together was strange to say the least. They seemed so incompatible. Height-wise, age-wise, wise-wise. More like mother and son.

“I saw her once before, at a conference a couple of years back,” Peterson said. “Watched her give a paper on some ancient beast or other. Truth is, I didn’t give a goddamn what she was talking about, I was too busy looking at her and wondering whether I’d ever see anything so beautiful ever again. Felt like somebody had clocked me upside the head with a nine iron.” He sighed. “Then I turn up here and damn me if she isn’t the first person I meet, after security, that