They climbed from the ravine, and picked up the trail again in the permafrost. Although the countryside was open and they could see for miles, there was no sign of life except for a few wheeling seabirds. The trail led to a shallow valley that brought them to the cave entrance.

“Someone has been doing some mining,” Zavala said.

“Nice call, Sherlock.” Austin picked up a jackhammer, attached to a portable compressor, that had been lying on the ground near the entrance.

Zavala's sharp eyes examined the charred rubble around the hole. “Okay, Watson. Someone did a little blasting here too.”

Austin said, “We've been here less than an hour and I'm already starting to dislike Ivory Island.”

He crawled into the hole and came out a minute later shaking his head. “Suicide. We don't know how far it goes. We don't even have a flashlight.”

They made their way back to the paraglider, called the icebreaker and asked Ivanov to send in a party to collect the dead and to bring in electric torches. Austin suggested that his men be armed. Knowing the captain's interest, Austin said he was hopeful that Karla was still alive. The captain said Maria Arbatov had been treated and was doing well. They wished each other good luck and clicked off.

Minutes later, the paraglider took off from a low hill with all the grace of a drunken gooney bird. They gained altitude and wheeled high over the island. Austin had thoroughly examined the charts, but still he was surprised at the size of the island. There was a lot of territory to cover with an aircraft that moved with a cruising speed of twenty-six miles per hour.

Austin marked their takeoff point as a center, and then he flew in an expanding spiral that allowed for an overlapping search of a large area. They saw only the featureless permafrost. Austin was about to head back to the beach to rendezvous with the boat party when Zavala shouted in his ear.

Austin followed Zavala's pointing finger and saw a well-defined track leading up the side of the volcano. They flew toward the volcano and saw that the trail was not a natural feature but rather a series of switchbacks cut into the side of the mountain. Austin suspected that man had a hand in the track's creation.

“Looks like a road,” Austin said.

“That's what I thought. Want to take a look?”

The question was unnecessary. Austin had already brought the paraglider around, and they were soaring toward the lip of the caldera.

NUMA 6 - Polar Shift

30

THE SUBTERRANEAN CITY WAS laid out in a grid pattern under the domed roof of an enormous cavern. The ancient metropolis was cut off from the sun and should have been in complete darkness, but it shimmered in a silvery green light that emanated from every building and street.