Roman Ice

by Dave Bartell

  Darwin paused and looked behind them. He zipped up his jacket against cloying dampness that hung in the air.

  “What is it?” Zac asked.

  “This is the point where I turned around last time.”

  “So, here we go. Where no man has gone before,” said Zac in a seek-out-new-life-and-civilizations tone.

  “Except for Agrippa’s party,” said Darwin.

  “Do you think we’ll find evidence along the way?”

  “Hopefully.”

  “How did these guys do it? I mean we’ve got a trailer and modern gear. This was two thousand years ago,” said Zac.

  “I suspect they were far more resourceful than we are. Contemporary life doesn’t require that much ingenuity or sacrifice.”

  “Bullshit! I had to take cold showers for two days last week when the boiler in my building broke.”

  “I think I saw a headline on that,” said Darwin.

  “Yep. ‘Man Risks Hypothermia for a Date’.”

  “First World problems, my friend. Most of us wouldn’t be able to recognize food sources in the natural world,” said Darwin.

  “Something tells me we’re headed in an unpalatable direction.”

  “It depends on your definition of starving.”

  “That’s easy: four o’clock in the afternoon and no salsa to go with the chips,” said Zac.

  About seven hours in they made their first camp and over dinner Zac accused him of being in a funk about Eyrún.

  “I’m just tired,” said Darwin.

  “Whatever, just get over it. We got work to do,” said Zac as they bedded down.

  Darwin lay in his sleeping bag. He felt a tightness inside his forehead like something was irritating him. Allergies? Who knows what kinds of molds are down here? He made a mental note to bring anti-histamine tablets when they returned.

  Darwin awoke. His watch showed 4:00 a.m. Not that time and daylight mattered in a universe of total darkness. He rolled over and dozed another couple hours until he was too stiff to remain lying down. He got up and walked a few meters away from Zac to brew coffee.

  What’s today? Monday. Right. Their plan was to travel two full days in the outbound direction and then turn around. They would return to Reykjavík on Friday. He had told Pétur where they were going in case something went wrong. He also used the call as an excuse to ask about the dig. Now he remembered what was bothering him.

  Pétur also mentioned a meeting on Tuesday with the University and the Government. Not that he cared, but Pétur also said Eyrún would attend. What’s she up to? And what’s this meeting about? This is the crap that Emelio had to put up with. Nobody believes the evidence for decades, but throw in some diamonds and they all come running.

  “It smells like morning,” said Zac, pulling Darwin out of his reverie.

  “You want a cup?” Darwin asked, pouring himself a second, his aches from sleeping on a rock floor lessening.

  “Hell yeah,” said Zac. “My jet lag is killing me. When does it wear off?”

  “You’re on day three, so the worst of it is hitting now. I feel more adjusted by the fourth day.”

  After a few cups of the strong coffee and a couple protein bars, they loaded the trailer and started walking. So far, the trailer had been the perfect idea, although Zac suggested that taller tires would better clear some larger rockfall.

  “What’s our distance?” Darwin asked a few minutes after they started.

  “About twenty-three kilometers from the main opening,” said Zac.

  “Does that keep up the average we need?” They had calculated the walking speed needed to cover a distance from Iceland to Scotland, to match the eighteen days in Agrippa’s scroll.

  “More or less. We stopped a lot yesterday for surveys, and the flat tire ate up another hour. I figure we can make it in eighteen days give or take a few.”

  At this point in the journey the tube had become as dry as an ancient riverbed and devoid of light and sound.

  “Seventeen days of this could get boring,” said Darwin.

  “Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer,” Zac sang.

  Darwin squirted him with a water bottle.

  36

  Reykjavík

  On Tuesday morning, Eyrún and Sveinn arrived at the university. Its administration building was so minimalist that Eyrún wondered if the architect grew up in a Soviet apartment block.

  They walked to a conference room on the third floor where they joined the others seated at a large table.

  “Ah, Sveinn and Eyrún, welcome. We’re all here now,” said Greta, motioning them to the chairs opposite her.

  “We were just starting the introductions,” said Geir Grímsson, the university president.

  “I’m Sveinn Halgason, Vice President of Corporate Development at Stjörnu Energy,” said Sveinn. “Nice to see you again, Geir.”

  “Eyrún Stephansdottir, senior volcanologist,” said Eyrún.

  She wrote the names as they went around the table: Markus Palsson, Minister for the Environment and Natural Resources; Greta Ólafsdottir, Minister of Industry and Commerce; Kristín Johansdottir, Professor of Archeology and dig leader; and Robert Van Rooyen, who said he represented an investor consortium.

  Geir opened the meeting. “First, Kristín,” he said, “let me say congratulations on your discovery. While your team is still hard at work determining the origins of the Roman artifacts, it’s clear that this points to a potentially significant find for Iceland. It’s exciting to consider that the Roman Empire may have reached our nation.

  “I also understand that the underground explorations have turned up lava tubes that appear to be the work of our volcanoes. I asked you all here to examine the possibilities and how we, together, can determine the safest ways to explore.

  “The diamonds, in particular, pose an interesting opportunity. Robert, can you expand on that?” finished Geir.

  “Thanks, Geir,” said Robert. “For those you who don’t know me, I’ve been in diamond mining for several decades in South Africa. Deep lava flows push the diamonds close to the Earth’s surface.”

  “So it’s possible the diamonds found in the archeological excavation came from a lava flow somewhere in Iceland?” asked Geir.

  “True,” added Markus, the environment minister, “but diamond mining is an environmentally destructive business and Iceland’s natural beauty is one of our greatest assets. Tourists come here to see natural wonders, not gaping holes in the ground.”

  “If I may continue,” said Robert. “It may be possible to extract the diamonds underground without breaking the Earth’s surface.”

  “I find that hard to fathom,” said Markus, crossing his arms.

  “Let the man finish, Markus,” said Greta. “We haven’t committed to anything, and you know as well as the rest of us that we can’t eat scenery. Iceland needs jobs.”

  Robert nodded to Greta and continued. “Diamonds and lava tubes coincide with each other. Diamonds are formed at tremendous depths and forced to the Earth’s surface in massive eruptions that spills lava in all directions. When the eruption ends, the volcano cools leaving behind a shaft that contains diamonds.”

  “There are diamonds in the center of every volcano?” asked Geir, his eyes wide.

  “No, only in eruptions that come from deep in the Earth, hundreds of kilometers down,” said Greta.

  “But there are no kimberlite pipes in Iceland,” said Eyrún.

  “What?” asked Geir.

  “Kimberlite—it’s a type of deep lava that contains diamonds, and, yes, Eyrún is correct. Iceland is young, geologically,” said Robert.

  “Where did the diamonds come from, then?” asked Geir.

  “The Romans had them,” said Kristín.

  “Yes. But where did the Romans get them?” asked Geir.

  “And how did they get here?” asked Markus.

  “Someone said through the lava tube,” said Greta.

  “Tha
t’s ridiculous,” said Markus.

  They broke into several cross-table discussions bordering on argument. Eyrún watched Robert sit back as if he was enjoying the chaos. She remembered Páll’s request for her to listen, but the meeting had fallen apart.

  “Wait!” she yelled. All eyes turned toward her.

  “I think,” she said, pausing for quiet. “I think the lava tube that Kristín’s team found runs out under the North Atlantic Ocean farther than any of us thinks. What if this tube drains into an ancient volcanic network?”

  “There’s a story for the tabloids. And we also find Atlantis,” said Markus.

  “Seriously? We’re a university. How about a little respect for scientific speculation,” said Kristín. “Go on,” she added, touching Eyrún’s forearm.

  “I know it may sound crazy, but the Earth is old beyond imagining. The oldest formations on the surface are only hundreds of millions of years old. That’s like infancy when viewed in human terms. And we only have theories of what lies deep in the Earth. I’ve seen the tube beneath the dig site. It’s bigger than a London Underground platform. You could drive two trains side by side. Imagine the amount of lava that could drain through a tube that size.

  “Where do you think it would go? Iceland is young, but our close neighbor, Scotland, is over two billion years old and one of the oldest continental formations. Suppose the kimberlite pipe where the Romans found those diamonds is somewhere between Iceland and Scotland. And if this lava tube runs into that kimberlite pipe, then very little evidence of mining would be seen aboveground,” Eyrún finished.

  Everyone stared at her. Robert leaned to Geir, and she overheard him whisper, “Now’s your moment. This should be an industry sponsored project. They take the risk. You get the fame if it succeeds.”

  “Which is why I asked Sveinn and Eyrún to join us. Stjörnu Energy has decades of experience working in lava tubes,” said Geir.

  Eyrún met Robert’s gaze. He nodded his approval.

  “Geir, if I may,” said Eyrún. She walked to the front of the room, flicked the down switch on the projector screen, and dimmed the lights. She worked her iPad, and a photo of the lava tube appeared on the screen. Someone in the room whistled.

  “This is the lava tube we discovered at the dig north of Hof. It’s nine meters in diameter.” She swiped, and another photo showed Pétur standing in the mouth of the tube.

  “There are lava tubes all over Iceland,” she said, “but I’ve never seen one this large. In addition, we went in three kilometers and it gave no sign of ending or—critical point here—filling up with water. In other words, this tube could go on for… well, we don’t know.”

  Control yourself, she thought. They don’t need to know everything. She continued out loud, “The plan is to determine the length of the tube and where it ends.”

  “What of the diamonds?” asked Greta.

  “That’s the reason to keep this a secret,” said Robert.

  “Why secret?” probed Greta.

  “Suppose the diamonds are close to Scotland. Whose international boundary would claim them? Better to operate quietly and settle the issue later,” said Robert.

  “Wait a minute. Scotland is eight hundred kilometers away. You mean to tell me this tube goes that far?” asked Markus.

  “I have experts in diamond geology on their way here to help us figure that out,” said Robert.

  “Eyrún can get with your team on a combined plan,” added Sveinn.

  “It sounds like we’re ready to go. When can this start?” asked Geir.

  “Hold on,” said Markus. “You’re forgetting the environmental impact studies. You can’t just go tearing about underground. Sveinn, you know these things. It took a year to get your controversial CO2 scrubbing project approved.”

  “He’s right,” said Greta, “and we should have a bidding process. Sorry, Sveinn, but other companies would cry foul if we let a contract out without proper tender and public comment.”

  “We don’t have time,” someone said, and arguments broke out again.

  Eyrún tried not to roll her eyes. What a bunch of morons. No wonder governments get nothing done. Why am I even sitting here? I should be in the tube. Wait! She grabbed her phone and looked at the last text from Darwin.

  Darwin: Hi. Gonna be unavailable for a few days. Get together when I’m back?

  He’s heading to the tube. I need to get out of here, she thought and noticed the arguing had slowed.

  “Okay, I think everyone’s got their actions. Markus, you get a preliminary environmental assessment and Greta drafts a request for proposal,” said Geir.

  They all nodded.

  “Good. Then we’ll meet here again in two weeks. Thanks for coming today,” he said.

  37

  Eyrún walked out of the toilet stall to wash her hands and found Kristín already at the next sink over.

  “You were great in there,” said Kristín.

  “Do you think? Most of this stuff is about playing to egos. You heard Robert make Geir sound like the smartest guy in the room. I showed pictures and let them carry on,” said Eyrún.

  “You seem so confident,” said Kristín. “I’m no good at this kind of stuff.”

  “I had to speak up. We were about to get cut out,” said Eyrún. “Anyway, we’re on hold for a couple weeks while the bureaucrats argue.”

  “What do you think of Darwin?” asked Kristín.

  “Smart, ambitious, impulsive...”

  Kristín’s mobile rang just then. “I gotta take this. Talk to you later,” she said, and hurried out of the restroom.

  Eyrún dried her hands and reflected on what she’d said about Darwin. True, I like competent people who work as fast as I do, she thought. But there’s something else about him. The way he listened the other night. I haven’t opened up like that to anyone in years. Not since my father…

  She stopped drying her hands and looked in the mirror. Her reflection squinted back through crunched-up eyebrows, her eyes thin and dark. Is this the face that friends and coworkers call ‘too intense’? She only pictured herself smiling as she did in photos. She crumpled the towel and threw it at the bin. It missed. She grunted and picked it up.

  I don’t have time for this. Not now. There’s too much to do. Dropping the towel in the bin, she pushed out the door.

  Eyrún saw Robert angle over toward her as she exited the building.

  “You were impressive in the meeting. Showing the photo was genius,” said Robert.

  “Thanks.”

  “Walk with me a couple minutes. The doctors say I shouldn’t sit long. Blood clots.”

  She nodded. “Sure, my car is over there.”

  “Markus and Greta sound like they’ll take a lot of convincing,” he said.

  “They’re more concerned about protecting their own image—typical bureaucrats.”

  “True. Perhaps we can find a way to work around them. Tell me about more about your idea.”

  “There’s not much more to tell. It’s feasible. Who are your investors?”

  “People who do not want to be known which is why they’ve hired me,” he said. She frowned. She needed to get back and talk to Páll before Sveinn gave his version of the meeting.

  “Don’t misunderstand me, Eyrún. The diamond business is competitive, and any large discovery can upset the balance.”

  “You mean upset the artificial supply created by the cartels. I know diamonds aren’t rare. They exist all over the world.”

  “I see you are not a sentimentalist.”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t like them.”

  “It’s just that you can’t afford them.”

  “What’s your point?” she said.

  “It was more of an observation. You seem driven. Why else would you work for a start-up like Stjörnu Energy? It can’t be for stability.”

  “No. We think that the carbon scrubbing systems could revolutionize global energy production.”

  “And make you
rich.”

  “What is it you want, Robert? I have a lot of work to do,” said Eyrún.

  “How bad do you want to find out if your ideas are correct?”

  “Let’s say I’m willing to take a few risks.” They stopped at her car and she searched her purse for the key fob.

  “There is someone I want you to meet. He’s an expert at leading expeditions.”

  “What about Darwin?” she asked.

  “Darwin is a nice man, but he’s impulsive—good for discovery, not so good for leading a potentially dangerous expedition.”

  “Are you trying to cut him out of this?”

  “I’m not cutting him out of anything. One has to be in something to be ‘cut out’ as you say.”

  “What do you mean?” She turned to face him. She did not like his raw manipulation.

  “You were in the meeting. Did it sound to you like Darwin was part of this or a distraction?”

  “Isn’t this his idea?”

  “Is it? No doubt he pushed his way in, but did he find anything that you would not have found? This is your area of expertise. I think you would have found that tube and explored it.”

  Eyrún looked out over the wide garden and thought, Páll said the same thing. Okay, I would have found the tube, but the Roman symbol and diamonds—that’s Darwin. Still, he’d be way over his head on an expedition. An idea began to form. Can I use them both?

  She looked back at him and asked, “Who’s this guy you want me to meet?”

  “Ian Walls. He’ll call you soon,” he said, shaking her hand. Holding it a moment longer, he added, “Keep this conversation between us. I think we can find what’s in that lava tube before Markus and Greta get up the courage to begin a study. If we’re right, then we’ll both become very wealthy.

  38

  On Friday midday they left the dig site. Zac drove them back to Reykjavík. As soon as they were in cellular range, Darwin’s iPhone alerted him to multiple messages. One from Eyrún stood out.