“What else?” the voice asked.

Cate smiled, enjoying the game. “Native to tropical African waterways, and have primitive lungs – they can leave the water for short periods of time. A true evolutionary transitional form.” She felt the man come up behind her, and examined his reflection in the tank. He was tall, thin, and younger than she expected, and with a perfectly manicured Hemmingway-style beard.

“Very good, Professor Granger.”

“Was that a test?” she asked, turning.

Mironov shrugged. “Only a handful of people in the country could have recognized those fish for what they are.”

He stuck out his hand, and Cate grasped it. His palm was leathery, dry, and told of a man who worked with weights, wood, or maybe even rope – a sailor, she bet.

“Valery Konstantin Mironov – call me Valery.” He turned and motioned to the couch. She saw there was a coffee pot waiting.

Cate stole one more look at the tank, and then followed him to sit. Mironov lifted a remote from a slot in the armrest and pointed it at a wall. A panel slid back and then a screen appeared. The image flickered, and then came to life. It was her footage. He froze it at the image of the tooth, and laced his fingers in his lap.

“And this was taken in a sealed subterranean cavern, deep beneath the surface of the west Alaskan coast?” He watched her carefully. “And no one else knows about this?”

“The local Nantouk people have probably known about it for ten thousand years.” Cate tilted her head. “But other than my close colleagues, then no, no one else is aware of what this potentially is.”

“And what is it?” Mironov’s ice-blue eyes were unblinking.

She turned back to the screen. “An alpha predator, living in a massive body of water that is of tropical temperature, and one that could have been sealed off from the outside world for hundreds of thousands or maybe even many millions of years.”

“A mutation then?” Mironov tilted his head.

“Perhaps, but I think it is more likely something caught in an evolutionary cul-de-sac. A creature that has been frozen in time by a benign and unchanging environment… a remnant species.”

Mironov stared for a moment. “Sometimes evolution…” he turned to her. “…or maybe God himself, tries things out. Sometimes they don’t work, or God realizes He has made a mistake.” He turned back to the screen. “And then these things get cancelled out. Some for good reason.” He turned to her with a flat smile. “And now it is back.”

“It never went away… just like the coelacanths you have at home.” She raised an eyebrow as she sipped her coffee.

His mouth lifted into a smile. “Yes.” He raised his cup, saluting her. “So, Ms Granger, this sounds like something you would kill for, hmm? Why aren’t you already there, exploring, filming, negotiating television rights to a documentary?”