Treasure of Khan

the advance warning apparently did the trick.'

'We'll need to stay on our toes for potential aftershocks,' Pitt said. 'I've got an open satellite line to the National Earthquake Information Center in Golden, Colorado. They'll give us a shout if they detect a subsequent quake the second they see it.'

As dusk settled over the lake, the Vereshchagin steamed into the port village of Listvyanka. On the forward deck of the research ship, the crew lined the rails to observe the ruin. The wave had struck like a hammer, flattening small trees and shredding the smaller buildings that had stood along the water's edge.

But most of the town and port had survived with minimal loss. The research ship dropped anchor in the dark a mile from the damaged shoreline docks, which glistened under a battery of temporary lights strung along the shore. The hum of an old Belarus tractor drifted over the water as the townspeople began working late into the night to clean up the flood damage.

In the ship's galley, Roy, Wofford, and the fishing boat captain sat in a corner chugging shots with a Russian crewman who generously shared his bottle of Altai vodka. Pitt, Giordino, and Sarghov sat across the room, finishing a dinner of baked sturgeon with Theresa and Tatiana. After their dishes were cleared away, Sarghov produced an unmarked bottle and poured a round of after-dinner drinks.

'To your health,' Giordino said, toasting both ladies, his glass meeting a clink from Theresa's.

'Which is much improved on account of you,' Theresa replied with a laugh. Taking a sip of the liquid, her smile waned as her eyes suddenly bugged out.

'What is this stuff?' she rasped. 'Tastes like bleach.'

Sarghov laughed with a deep bellow. 'It's samogon. I acquired it in the village from an old friend. I believe it is similar to a liquid in America called moonshine.'

The rest of the table laughed as Theresa pushed the half-filled glass away from her. 'I believe I shall stick to vodka,' she said, now grinning with the others.

'So tell me, what are a couple of gorgeous young ladies doing out hunting for oil on big, bad Lake Baikal?' Pitt asked after downing his glass.

'The Avarga Oil Consortium possesses oil and mining rights to territories east of the lake,' Tatiana replied.

'Lake Baikal is a cultural treasure. It has United Nations World Heritage status and is an icon for environmentalists around the globe,' Sarghov said, clearly disdainful at the prospect of seeing an oil rig on the pristine lake's waters. 'How can you possibly expect to drill on the lake?'

Tatiana nodded. 'You are correct. We respect Baikal as sacred water, and it would never be our intent to establish oil-pumping structures on the lake. If oil prospects are proven and deemed reachable, we would drill from the eastern territories at a high angle beneath the lake to reach the potential deposits.'

'Makes sense,' Giordino stated. 'They angle drill in the Gulf of Mexico all the time, even drill horizontally. But that still doesn't explain the presence of this lovely Dutch angel from Rotterdam,' he added, smiling broadly at Theresa.

Flattered by the comment, Theresa blushed deeply before answering. 'Amsterdam. I'm actually from Amsterdam. My intoxicated American coworkers and I work for Shell Oil.' As she spoke, she hooked her thumb toward the far corner, where an inebriated Roy and Wofford were loudly sharing dirty jokes with their Russian companions.

'We are here at the request of Avarga Oil,' she continued. 'They are not equipped for marine surveys, for obvious reasons. My company has performed survey work in the Baltic as well as the western Siberia oil fields of Samotlor. We are exploring a joint-development opportunity with Avarga Oil for some regional lands that show promise. It was a natural fit for us to come here and perform the lake survey together.'

'Had you confirmed any petroleum deposits before the wave struck?' Pitt asked.

'We were searching for structural indications of hydrocarbon seeps only and did not have the seismic equipment necessary to gauge any potential deposits. At the time we lost the boat, we had failed to survey any significant characteristics normally associated with a deposit seep.'

'Oil seeps?' Sarghov asked.

'Yes, a common if somewhat primitive means of locating petroleum deposits. In a marine setting, oil seeps show up as leakages from the seafloor that rise to the surface. In the days before boomer trucks and other seismic devices that ping the sedimentary depths and produce a visual geological image of the ground, oil seeps were the primary means of locating hydrocarbon deposits.'

'We have had fishermen report the sightings of oil slicks on the lake where no surface traffic was evident,' Tatiana explained. 'We realize, of course, they could represent releases from small deposits that are not economical to drill.'

'A potentially costly venture, given the depths of the lake,' Pitt added.

'Speaking of ventures, Mr. Pitt, what are you and your NUMA crew doing here aboard a Russian research ship?' Tadana asked.

'We're guests of Alexander and the Limnological Institute,' Pitt replied, tipping his glass of samogon in the direction of Sarghov. 'A joint effort to study current patterns in the lake and their effect on the endemic flora and fauna.'

'And how was it that you became aware of the seiche wave well in advance of its appearance?'

'Sensor pods. We've got hundreds of sensor pods deployed in the lake, which measure the water temperature, pressure, and so on. Al's been dropping them like bread crumbs from the helicopter all over the lake. We just happened to be surveying the area of lake near Olkhon Island and had a heavy concentration of sensors in the water there. Rudi quickly picked up the indicators of an underwater landslide and the resulting seiche wave as it formed.'

'A fortunate thing for us, as well as many others, I imagine,' Theresa said.

'Al just has a nose for catastrophes,' Pitt grinned. 'Coming to Siberia without a bottle of Jack Daniel's was the real catastrophe,' Giordino said, sipping the glass of samogon with a sour look on his face.

'It is a shame that our base current data was disrupted by this unexpected event,' Sarghov said, contemplating the scientific impact, 'but we will have some exciting data on the formation and movement of the wave itself.'

'These sensor pods, can they reveal where the earthquake originated?' Tatiana asked.

'If it occurred under the lake,' Pitt replied.

'Rudi said he would massage the computers tomorrow and see if he can pinpoint an exact location from the sensors. The seismologists he talked to placed the epicenter somewhere near the northwest corner of the lake,' Giordino said. Scanning the galley and finding no sign of Gunn, he added, 'He's probably up in the bridge conversing with his computers as we speak.'

Tatiana downed the last of her samogon, then glanced at her watch. 'It has been a trying day. I'm afraid I must turn in for the evening.'

'I'm with you,' Pitt said, suppressing a yawn. 'May I escort you to your cabin?' he asked innocently.

'That would be satisfactory,' she replied.

Sarghov joined them as they rose to their feet and declared good night to all.

'I trust you two are waiting for the baked alaska to be served?' Pitt smiled at Theresa and Giordino.

'Tales of the Netherlands await my hungry ears,' Giordino grinned at Theresa.

'And anecdotes of the deep await in return?' she laughed back.

'There certainly is something deep around here,' Pitt laughed as he bid good night.

Pitt politely escorted Tatiana to her cabin near the stern, then retired to his own stateroom amidships.

The day's physical demands had consumed his body and he was glad to ease his aching limbs into his bunk. Though physically exhausted, he fell asleep with difficulty. His mind stubbornly replayed the day's events over and over until a black veil of sleep thankfully washed over him.

-5-