chalets. It's perfect for seminars or retreats like this one where we academics simply come to think.' He grabbed the duffel bags. 'Come, I'll show you where you're staying.' Orlov led the way along a soft pine-needle path to a chalet that gleamed with new green-and-white trim. He climbed onto the porch, dropped the bags and held the door open for the Trouts. The one-room cottage had up-and-down bunks for four people, a rough-hewn table in the middle, a sink with a pump and a gas camp stove on the other side. Orlov went to the sink and pumped the handle.
'The water is pure and cold. Be sure to save some in this coffee can to prime the pump. There's a shower outside. The WC is just behind the house. It's a bit primitive, I'm afraid.'
Gamay looked around the room. 'Looks quite cozy to me.'
Paul said, 'We invited ourselves, Professor. We should be grateful we're not sleeping in a tent.'
'Nonsense! I'll have no more such talk, You'll probably want to unpack and get into something more comfortable,' The professor was wearing baggy black shorts and a red tank top. 'As you see, we're very informal, When you're ready, follow the path back to the main clearing. I'll be waiting with some refreshment.'
After Orlov left, they filled the sink and washed up. Gamay traded her stylish cotton slacks and sweater for blue shorts and a T-shirt from the Scripps Oceanographic Institute, where she'd first met Paul, who was studying there, Paul was wearing an L.L. Bean nonwrinkle navy blazer and tan slacks and one of the wildly colored bow ties he favored. He put on new tan shorts, navy polo shirt and Teva sandals, Then they strolled back through the pines to the main clearing.
Orlov sat at a picnic table in the shade of an arbor. He was talking to a middle-aged couple he introduced as Natasha and Leo Arbikov, both physicists. They spoke little English but communicated with sunny smiles. Orlov said that there were a number of other academicians and students from various fields scattered about in the woods working on experiments or simply reading. From an oversized cooler, he produced plastic containers of fresh fruit, caviar, smoked fish, cold borscht, a jug of water and a bottle of vodka. The Trouts sampled the food, but drank water, putting off the hard stuff until later. Orlov had no such hesitation, drinking his vodka with apparently little effect.
'It helps my concentration,' he said with good cheer, washing down a mouthful of caviar. He gave Trout another teeth-rattling pound on the back. 'This is so incredible to see you, my friend, I'm glad you called to say you would be in the neighborhood.'
'It's wonderful to see you again, Vlad, although it was a little difficult getting through to you.'
'We're connected to the outside by a single telephone. That's the beauty of this place. It's the Lost World. Only we are the dinosaurs.' He roared with laughter at his own joke. 'We are paid practically nothing, but we can pursue our work with little in the way of expenses.' He lifted the bottle, smacked his lips and poured himself another two fingers of vodka. 'Enough about me. Tell me what brought you to the Black Sea.'
'You've heard of the NUMA research vessel, Argo?'
'Oh, yes. I've been on her, in fact. A few years ago. She's a wonderful ship. I would expect nothing less from NUMA.'
Paul nodded in agreement. 'Garnay and I are doing some research in connection with the Argo's most recent survey. I remembered you were at the university and thought I'd give you a call to let you know we were in the neighborhood.'
Austin had asked the Trouts to look into Ataman Indus- tries while he and Zavala checked out the submarine base. Ataman's headquarters were in the port city of Novorossiysk, on the northeast comer of the Black Sea. Trout immediately thought of Orlov, who had been a visiting professor at the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution, because he remembered that the professor taught at the university in Rostov near Novorossiysk. When he'd called Orlov, the professor said he would never forgive Paul if he and Gamay didn't come to visit him.
'You had no problem getting here?' the professor inquired.
'Not at all. We were lucky to catch a commercial flight to Novorossiysk on short notice. The university arranged for a cab to pick us up at the airport, and here we are.' He looked around at the bucolic setting. 'Let me get my bearings. We're between Rostov and Novorossiysk?'
'That's right. Novorossiysk is the port for the oil fields in I the Caucasus. It's also a Hero City full of large ugly monuments commemorating the heroic resistance of the people during the Great Patriotic War.' Orlov turned to Gamay. 'Paul has lauded your skills as a marine biologist. What sort of work have you been doing?'
'Before coming to the Black Sea, I was in the Florida Keys looking at coral damage from industrial runoff.'
Orlov gave a shake of his head. 'It seems that we Russians are not the only environmental barbarians. I am involved in a study of Black Sea pollution. What about you, Paul?'
'I was at Woods Hole doing some consulting work on a study of ocean mining. I think one of the ocean mining concerns I read about is in Novorossiysk, as a matter of fact.'
Guile was not one of Trout's strong suits. He had a blunt Yankee openness and felt uncomfortable skirting the truth, especially with an old friend. Trout figured that if he threw out a few conversational seeds, one of them would sprout. This seed fell on fertile soil.
'Ocean mining? You must mean Ataman Industries.'
'Sounds familiar. I'm sure I read about it somewhere.'
'I'd be surprised if you hadn't. Ataman is huge. They started as a land-mining conglomerate, but they saw the potential under the sea and now their fleet ranges allover the world.'
'Smart move, with the worldwide demand for fuel.'
'Yes, that is true, but less commonly known is that Ataman has been in the forefront in devising ways to extract methane hydrate from the sea bottom.'
'I don't remember any mention of that in the corporate literature.'
'Ataman tends to be secretive. Russian capitalism is still in its Wild West phase. We don't have all the disclosure laws your country does. I doubt if they'd make that much difference, anyway. With the thousands employed by Ataman, it's very difficult to keep a secret. Ataman has built an entire fleet of monstrous ships that will be used in the extraction of fire ice.'
'Fire ice?' Gamay said.
'It's a term someone came up with for methane hydrate, a compound of methane gas,' Paul explained. 'Pockets of the stuff are trapped under the sea bottom allover the world. Looks like icy snow, only it's flammable.'
Orlov chimed in. 'Everyone knows that Soviet scientists claim to have invented everything, from the electric light-bulb to the computer, but in this case I must give them credit. The first natural deposits were found in Siberia, where it was known as marsh gas. Some American scientists picked up on the work of our glorious scientists and discovered hydrates under the ocean.'
'Off the South Carolina coast, as I recall,' Trout said. 'Woods Hole did some dives with the deep-water submersible Alvin and found the plumes escaping from the sediment along faults in the ocean floor.'
'What are the commercial applications?' Gamay said.
Orlov started to pour himself more vodka, thought better of it and pushed the bottle aside. 'The potential is enormous. The deposits around the world possibly hold more energy than all the other fossilized fuels combined.'
'You see it as a replacement for oil and gas, then?'
'No less than Scientific American called it the 'fuel of the future.' It could be worth trillions, which is why so many people are interested in its extraction. The technical problems are formidable, though. The substance is unstable and quickly decomposes once it is removed from conditions of extreme depth and pressure. But whoever controls the process may control the future energy supply of the world. Ataman is in the forefront of the exploration and research,' Orlov said. His wide brow wrinkled in a worried furrow. 'Which is not good.'
'Why not?' Paul asked.
'Ataman is owned in its entirety by an ambitious businessman named Mikhail Razov.'
'He must be fabulously wealthy,' Gamay said.
'It goes beyond riches. Razov is a complex man. While he keeps his business dealings shrouded in secret, his public persona looms quite large in Russia. He has been outspoken in his criticism of the way things are being run in Moscow, and has gained a substantial cult following.'
'A tycoon with political ambitions is not unusual, even in the United States,' Gamay said. 'We've often elected
