by Dave Bartell
Eyrún: Are you back in the city yet?
“Shit!” said Darwin.
“What?” asked Zac, taking his foot off the gas and glancing in the rear-view mirror.
“She knows we were in the tube.”
“No, she doesn’t. Don’t be so guilty, you dope. Tell her we’re out sightseeing. I’m a newb and wanted to check out the local fauna in the hot springs.”
“Okay.”
Darwin: Hi been out showing Zac the country
Eyrún: Meet me @10 in the restaurant bar
Darwin: Okay
He was beat. “I wonder what she wants?” said Darwin. “You up for a drink?”
“I think she wants to meet alone, bro,” said Zac.
“Yeah?”
“Pretty sure.”
“I keep thinking about her,” said Darwin.
“It’s called horny, dude. Happens to the best of us,” said Zac.
“No, there’s more to it than that,” said Darwin, watching the landscape speed by. There’s something else about her. Easy to be around, but also a mystery.
Darwin got to the bar about ten minutes late. He was still thrown off by the light this far up north. It felt more like 6:00 p.m. than a couple hours to midnight. Eyrún was seated at the bar.
“Hi, Eyrún,” said Darwin, sliding onto a stool.
“Hi, Darwin. Thanks for meeting me,” she said, extending a hand.
He shook it. What?! Is she mad about me going in the tube? He tried to cover his surprise by turning to the barkeep and ordering a lager. She said to make it two.
“How was the tube?” she asked. Darwin looked surprised.
“Come on, Darwin. I guessed. What else would Zac want to see?” she said.
The beers came, and they clinked glasses. Darwin gulped down about a third of his pint and paused as if steeling himself for testimony.
“It’s huge, just like the entrance. It descends at a good pitch and gradually levels off. We went in about ninety kilometers and spent five nights underground. Imagine the darkest, quietest place you’ve ever been. It’s darker and quieter.”
He went on a few minutes more about the terrain and effectiveness of carrying gear on the trailer, then asked, “What happened at the meeting?”
She covered the attendees and the arguing among the government officials.
“What about this Robert guy? The one you said Geir invited,” said Darwin, keying in on the name.
“He was vague. Said he had experience with diamonds and expeditions,” she said and dug around her purse. “Here’s his card. Robert Van Rooyen.”
“Fuck!” Darwin pounded his glass on the bar.
“What?!” she said, catching the card as it slid off the bar.
“The guy’s a thief. He took scrolls from my grandfather.”
39
The next morning, Eyrún sat at a coveted front window table of the Heart of Darkness coffee bar. She warmed her hands on a ceramic mug, watching sunlight streaming through the window, feeling its rays deep-heat her shoulders.
How did this get so complicated? she thought and sipped her coffee. Darwin’s outburst last night left as many questions as he answered. Páll was desperate for investors and would make decisions regardless of her personal connection. The government officials could not figure out what they wanted. She did not trust Robert and wondered what kind of man Ian Walls was.
She had decided to explore the tube regardless of the backroom politics, but knew she could not do it alone. Of all the people involved, she trusted Darwin the most. But why? I hardly know him. Her thoughts drifted to their dinner conversations and that night in the cabin. She could not quite put a finger on it. I feel comfortable with him… and I have from the moment we met. She wagged her head as if this realization was not enough.
A minute later, she caught sight of a man walking down the block glancing between his mobile and the building addresses. When he saw the sign above the coffee bar, he pocketed the device and walked in. He wore jeans over boots and a rumpled cotton shirt, a rugged look that modeling photographers tried to achieve.
His brown hair, bleached a shade lighter by the South African sun, was longer than the style in fashion with young men. A deep furrow between his eyebrows pulled at chocolate brown eyes. A cropped mustache and goatee completed a picture of intensity.
“Ian?” asked Eyrún as he walked in.
“Yeah,” he replied. “Eyrún?”
His face blossomed into a warm smile that transformed him from enemy to friend.
“Yes. Pleased to meet you,” she said, shaking his hand.
“Sorry for being late,” said Ian. “I got the streets mixed up.”
“No problem,” she said. “I arrived a few minutes ago. Coffee?”
“Yeah. Sounds good,” he said, his South African accent flattening the es, “I’ll get it. You hold the table.”
She watched him order and then stand there, relaxed, as he waited for his coffee. He was about the same height as Darwin, but stockier in build. Mug in hand, he returned and sat, planting one hand on his thigh, elbow cocked outward. Eyrún felt tension radiate from him, like a compressed spring.
“Ah, that’s good,” he said, sipping from the mug left-handed. “Is this place a local favorite?”
“I come here sometimes when I’m in the city. Our office is about ten kilometers to the north. How long have you been in Iceland?”
“About two days,” he said.
“It’s a long way from South Africa. Which city?”
“Johannesburg.”
“What brings you to Reykjavik?”
“I think we know that,” he said and smiled. “You found something interesting to the people I represent.”
“We found a few things. Which ones are your people after?”
“Touché,” he said, raising his mug.
Eyrún waited.
“You’ve guessed that my backers are in the mining business,” he said.
“You mean diamonds.”
“Among other minerals.”
“Such as…”
“Gold, silver, platinum. The usual,” he said.
She sensed that in games of cat and mouse he was comfortable playing the cat. “I don’t want to play a guessing game,” she said. “Robert knows what we found. Diamonds. A large lava tube and markings left by Romans. The question is: Do these findings lead to any kind of valuable discovery? Given all that, why does Robert want us to talk?”
“Robert is resourceful and has powerful investors, but he needs someone with younger legs.”
“Why you in particular?” she pressed.
“I’ve worked with him a long time. I’m expert at organizing explorations into dangerous places,” said Ian.
“You think this lava tube is dangerous?” she said.
“Don’t you? You’ve been underground. We don’t know if this goes five kilometers or five hundred, if we believe this crazy theory.”
“What do you think about it? The crazy theory, I mean,” she said.
“Not sure. Robert has some kind of evidence, otherwise he’d think that this whole idea is crap,” he said.
“What is it you want from this… exploration?” she said, not sure what to call it for a moment.
“Money. I’m starting a business in Johannesburg, and Robert pays well.”
“And the diamonds?”
“There’s a bonus clause, yes.”
“What are you proposing, then?” asked Eyrún.
“That we form a small team, your people and mine, and we find out what’s in that tube.”
“Who are your people?” said Eyrún.
“A minerals expert, an underground security expert, and me. What about yours?”
“I’ve got a cave biologist, archeologist, and me,” she blurted out. She had not thought about it and pictured a former colleague and Pétur. She had no idea if they would be interested.
“And Darwin,” she added, shifting in her chair and feeling overwhelmed by
her lack of preparation.
“Tell me about this Darwin guy Robert mentioned.”
“He was the one who found the Roman symbol and surmised the diamonds came from the tube. He also has a scroll that he says was written by the Romans who found the diamonds,” she said.
“Have you seen the scroll?”
“Some of it.”
“Don’t you think we should see a lot more of it? I mean, we’re accepting a lot on faith here.”
“Agreed, he knows a lot more.” She played to Ian’s suspicions. “Besides, leaving him aboveground would cause us more trouble than bringing him along.”
“Not sure if Robert will go for it,” said Ian.
“He’ll have to. I agree to this only if Darwin goes,” she said. And he’ll help insulate me from you and your mercenaries, she thought.
40
Eyrún walked to her car. “My people”? Shit, why did I say that? She might get Pétur to go along if Assa agreed; but Stevie? They had not talked since last summer.
She took out her mobile and messaged Stevie.
Eyrún: Bonjour, where are you these days? I found something.
Something, she thought. That hardly explains it, but how do you say in a text that you might have found the longest cave on the planet. Stevie would respond, unless she was in her element far from mobile services. Eyrún had met her several years earlier on a project in northern Iceland. The two women had fallen into an easy friendship during the two weeks they shared a tent. Each understood the other’s struggles in male-dominated fields.
Stevie Leroy loved caves the way lifelong surfers were drawn to the shore. She had degrees in biology—Bachelors and Masters from The Sorbonne in Paris and a Doctorate in cave ecosystems from Cambridge. She could be social and engaging, but she was most happy in her own universe. Get her on the topic of the microflora that lived in dark caverns and she came most alive. But she made appalling choices with men, and they joked that she was only attracted to organisms lower on the evolutionary scale.
Eyrún’s mobile beeped.
Stevie: haha. I thought about you yesterday. Something? I know you better. What’s up?
Eyrún: Amazing underground discovery here. Can you talk?
Stevie: Not now. In Norway. Fingers half frozen. An hour, maybe
Eyrún: Okay. Call me
She drove to her office at Stjörnu Energy.
“Hi, Stevie,” said Eyrún. She was sitting at her desk when the call came in. “What are you doing in Norway?”
Eyrún walked to a courtyard garden in the center of the building complex while Stevie explained that she was at the global seed bank in Svalbard Norway investigating a mysterious fungus. Stevie’s occupation took her to one-of-a-kind locations around the world and was as far from a desk job as one could imagine.
She pushed open the door and sat on a bench beneath an Alder tree, its leaves dappling the sunlight across her body. The air felt soft in the early summer sun. She kicked off her shoes and traced a curve in the gravel with her big toe.
“What’s this ‘amazing discovery’?” said Stevie.
“Did you read about that diamond find in Iceland a few months back?”
“No,” she said.
“Look at the photo I sent,” said Eyrún.
“Oooooh, qu’est-ce que c’est?”
“It’s a lava tube,” Eyrún paused.
“How big?”
“Nine meters in diameter and it goes for at least ninety kilometers.”
“Merde,” said Stevie.
“I’m leading an expedition to find out how far this goes and—”
“When are you going?” Stevie cut her off.
“We haven’t figured that out yet. Soon. When are you finished up there?” asked Eyrún.
“A couple days. We found the source of the fungus and just need to confirm how to eliminate it, but I’d leave here in an instant to go with you. When will you know?”
“We’re bringing the team together now. It’s kind of complicated. Can you keep this secret?”
“Oui. Why?”
“That’s the complicated part. Too many people are getting interested. We need do this with stealth.”
“You mean like breaking the rules, sneaking off at night, that kind of stealth?” asked Stevie.
“Yes.”
“I’m so in.”
41
Keflavík International Airport, Iceland
Ian waited at the airport for Karl, the guy he told Eyrún was ‘his security expert’. Ian waited at the airport for Karl, the guy he told Eyrún was ‘his security expert’. He was still fuming from his conversation with Robert a few minutes ago. Robert called to tell him about a lunch meeting with the head of the cartel in Paris.
“He was skeptical at first, but the large diamond that I had stolen was persuasive,” said Robert. “A cache of very large, jewel-grade diamonds would hurt his monopoly, so he agreed to pay us five million euros to either control it or to bury it forever. But it comes with a catch. We have to take his son with us.”
“What? No way!” said Ian.
“I concur, but he insisted on validating the size and quality of the discovery. He wanted someone he trusted—”
“We can’t take the kid,” Ian cut him off.
“We have no choice Ian,” said Robert. “He’s only giving us a million and a half up front. One more person is a small concession to get the rest. Don’t worry, I checked him out. He’s the chief scientist for the cartel’s China operations—not a people person, but the kid’s got credibility.”
“Fine,” said Ian. “What’s his name?”
“Jón.”
Fuck. Like I need this, he thought standing in the waiting area. Any long exploration would be demanding, I need someone who can perform under duress. That’s Karl.
His only concern was that Karl had become less predictable in the years leading up to the mine riot. He shuddered at the memory of what happened to Karl in Zimbabwe, but knew he had always been able to tame Karl’s moods. This will be no different. We know each other. He trusts me, Ian assured himself, as he looked up at a video monitor that showed people leaving passport control and walking down the hallway to the arrivals area.
Karl towered above the others. At six feet four inches and 190 pounds, the man was a steel rail. Khaki fatigues, black t-shirt, and boots gave the impression of military except for the ear piercings. Half a dozen silver rings rimmed the cartilage of each ear and matched the graying band of hair at his temples. Black Ray-Ban sunglasses concealed any expression. A memory surfaced as Ian watched Karl pass off camera. Ian had been part of Robert’s brigade in Zimbabwe for a few months when mortar smacked into their patrol.
He was shielded from the death blast by a man who never knew he saved Ian’s life. While he lay stunned on the ground, the guerrilla group that attacked them stepped over the bodies.
“Let’s go,” urged a voice.
“There’s one by the tree.”
“He’s dead. Let’s go.”
“The captain said no survivors.”
Ian held his breath as the crunch of footsteps reached his body. He felt a rifle barrel jab his chest and heard a small snap, like something on a belt. A knife. If he waited, he would die. Grabbing his sidearm, he aimed at the sound and pulled the trigger twice. The soil next to him rocked as the man’s AK-47 pumped rounds into the dirt. The firing stopped and the man dropped backwards. Ian’s side blazed as if stuck by a branding iron.
More shots came in bursts of three a few meters to his right. He rolled left into the cover of the tree trunk. A hand grabbed his shoulder. Robert, finger to his lips, pushed Ian down low until the shooting ended.
“How bad are you hurt?” said Robert.
“My side,” said Ian, reaching across with his left hand.
Robert got him to a sitting position and pulled Ian’s hand away.
“Burn marks from the barrel. You’re lucky,” said Robert.
“Three down. No others.
Must have been an ambush. We need to move,” said Karl, who slipped in behind them. Robert helped Ian stand and they dashed a few hundred meters into the bush where they stopped and listened for sounds of pursuit.
“Playing dead after an attack and taking out your would-be killer with a blind shot takes some big balls. What do you think, Karl?” said Robert.
“Fuckin’ beautiful,” said Karl.
Ian’s chest swelled remembering the feeling of being accepted. Robert became the attentive father he so needed. Karl was like an older brother who introduced him to music, women, and survival in a harsh world.
Karl walked out the arrivals door and up to Ian. “Hey, little brother,” said Karl and grabbed him in bear-hug.
42
Reykjavík
“This sucks,” said Darwin as they rounded the corner a couple doors down from the pub. A breeze whipped the light rain in their faces.
“I know, dude. It’s messed up, but how else are we going to pull this off? We can’t make that distance on our own,” said Zac.
“I just meant the rain.”
“Oh, I thought you meant this meet up with Eyrún and Ian.”
“That too…”
“You’re pissed because your woman wants to do this herself,” said Zac.
“She’s not my woman,” said Darwin.
“Whatever. I’ve seen you brood this way before. She’s under your skin. Hell if you don’t want her…”
“I never said…”
“Then stop being your usual self. Smile. You want her to like you, right?” said Zac. He pulled open the door to the pub and waved Darwin in first. Ian and Eyrún sat at a table toward the back, a half full pitcher of beer between them. They stood as Darwin and Zac approached.
