“So if we can find an island that has ruins like Nan Madol,” Austin said, “then there’s a chance the Princess stopped there.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Lee said.

“How does that help us find the lab? Don’t forget, Dr. Lee, that’s our primary reason for being in Micronesia.”

“Yes, I know. But when I was at Bonefish Key, I heard that the field lab was running short of blue medusae and that a new supply had to be found.”

“Kane said that a mutant strain had been developed,” Austin said. “Why would they need more of the original species?”

“There was no assurance at the time that the mutant would be the answer,” Lee said, “in which case other avenues would have to be explored. There was a plan to collect medusae from a newfound source. If the lab is still working on the vaccine, it would need medusae. Which means that if we find that source, the lab may be nearby.”

“Wouldn’t Dr. Kane know where this new source was located?”

“Not necessarily. He had pretty much left the day-to-day operations to Dr. Mitchell.”

Austin thought about it for a moment, then said, “I know a guide named Jeremiah Whittles who lives in Kolonia, which is the capital of Pohnpei and the biggest town on the island. Whittles took me out to the ruins the last time I was here. He’s got an encyclopedic knowledge of Nan Madol. I think it might be worth talking to him to see if he knows anything that might help.”

The Citation X circled one last time, then glided in for a perfect landing, hitting the single strip for landings and takeoffs with a soft jounce. Near the end of the strip, the jet made a U-turn, using the strip to taxi up to the terminal.

The moveable staircase thumped against the fuselage. Austin pushed the door open and stepped out of the plane, filling his lungs with warm air laden with the heavy scent of tropical flowers. It was like stepping into a steam room, but nobody complained about the heat or humidity after being cooped up for so many hours in the temperature-controlled cabin.

The pleasant-mannered customs officer stamped their passports and welcomed them to the Federated States of Micronesia. Lee had left her passport back on Bonefish Key, but a State Department call ahead to Honolulu had produced temporary paperwork that would get her in and out of Micronesia.

The lobby was deserted except for a man holding a square of cardboard with NUMA printed on it. He wore a baseball cap, baggy cargo shorts, sandals, and a white T-shirt emblazoned with an azure blue rectangle enclosing four white stars, Micronesia’s flag.

Austin introduced himself and the others in the party.