Pitt was already mulling the same thought. He knew that the frigid waters of the Arctic allowed for remarkable preservation of antiquities. The Breadalbane, an 1843 wooden ship sent on one of the Franklin rescue expeditions and crushed in the ice near Beechey Island, had recently been discovered fully intact, its masts still rising over the deck. That a clue to the source of the ruthenium might still exist on the ship was entirely possible. But which ship was it, and where was it located?

“There was no mention of a second ship?” he asked.

“No,” Perlmutter replied. “And the approximate location they provide is quite a bit farther south than where the Franklin ships were recorded to have been abandoned.”

“Maybe the ice drifted, moving them apart,” Loren suggested.

“Entirely plausible,” Perlmutter replied. “Leuthner has an interesting tidbit later in the journal,” he said, flipping a few pages forward. “A third-party Inuit claims to have seen one of the ships sink while the other one disappeared. Leuthner could never quite decipher the distinction from the Inuit.”

“Assuming it is one of the Franklin ships, it might well be critical to identify the vessel, in case the mineral was not brought aboard both Erebus and Terror,” Pitt noted.

“I’m afraid Koo-nik never identified the ship. And both vessels were nearly identical in appearance,” Perlmutter said.

“But he said the crew had a name for themselves,” Loren said. “What did he call them, the ‘black men’?”

“The ‘men of blackness’ is how they were described,” Perlmutter replied. “Somewhat odd. I suppose they called themselves that for having survived so many dark winters.”

“Or there might be another reason,” Pitt said, a wide grin slowly spreading across his face. “If they were indeed the men of blackness, then they just told us which ship they served.”

Loren looked at him with a quizzical gaze, but the light went on for Perlmutter.

“But of course!” the big man roared. “It must be the Erebus. Well done, my boy.”

Loren looked at her husband. “What did I miss?”

“Erebus,” Pitt replied. “In Greek mythology, it is an underworld stopping place on the road to Hades. It is a place of perpetual darkness, or blackness, if you will.”

“Fair to say that’s where the ship and crew ended up,” Perlmutter said. He gave Pitt a studious look. “Do you think you can find her?”

“It will be a sizable search area, but it’s worth the gamble. The only thing that can prevent us from succeeding is the same peril that doomed Franklin: the ice.”

“We’re nearing the summer season, where the melting sea ice is navigable in the region. Can you get a vessel there in time to conduct a search?”

“And don’t forget the Canadians,” Loren cautioned. “They might not let you in the door.”