The Exfiltrator by Garner Simmons (read after txt) 📗

of the Neanderthals” being given under the auspices of the Anthropology Department in Fisk Hall by Dr. Michael Corbett.  To be honest, she had not expected much.  But from the moment Corbett took the stage, she had not been able to take her eyes off him.  Barely thirty and charismatic, he had a dynamism about him that was infectious. As he covered the Neanderthals’ emergence during the last Ice Age, the recent breakthroughs in DNA mapping and the emerging theory of their possible interbreeding with Humans, Ella couldn’t help but smile at the thought of her own recent encounter along the lakeshore. Neanderthal indeed.  By the end of the evening, Corbett’s passion for Paleoanthropology had clearly ignited her own.  Before leaving for Christmas break, she had decided to change her major.

Now that she had actually met him – that same Michael Corbett who had so radically affected the course of her life – the fact that they would actually be spending the next several months together exploring a cave in the Pyrenees seemed somehow extraordinarily serendipitous.

Checking her enthusiasm, she rose at last, opened her backpack and removed her laptop.  Packing could wait.  Connecting to the Internet, she clicked on the icon and began an email to her mother.  But as she typed Corbett’s name, she hesitated, then deleted it.  No point in providing her mother with something to obsess over when there was really nothing there.  Instead, she simply wrote about the incredible beauty of the city of Salamanca and the university and her good fortune at being included in the upcoming expedition.  Finally signing it “Love, Ella,” she clicked on “SEND. ” The rest would have to wait.

*****

After the students had left, Asurias escorted Corbett down a short corridor and into an adjoining room as they continued to discuss the work that lay ahead.

Unlocking the door leading to a dark rectangular chamber, the professor turned on the switch, flooding the room with light. “Do you have any questions regarding the advance materials I sent?”

Corbett shook his head as the professor stepped to a large, glass enclosed mahogany display case.  “On the plane,” he assured him, “I was able to go through everything.  Quite a discovery.  A cave system carved through folded limestone and formed over hundreds of millennia by a subterranean river.  No telling what we might find down there.”

Taking out a key, Asurias unlocked the case.  “Very true.  Which is why, to assist us in our preparations, I commissioned this scale model.”  There within the case was an exact replica of the archeological site rendered in minute detail out of plaster of Paris and painted by hand.  Along the walls of the room, photographs and topological maps provided the additional specifics.  Indicating the contours of the landscape as he spoke, the professor continued: “You can see the entrance to the cave there near the crest of the ridge.  And here, nearly a kilometer below, is where the river emerges.  Quite unique.”

Leaning in for a closer look, Corbett was impressed.  “Your notes said the site is virtually pristine.  Not to sound skeptical, but…”

“Si, you are right to question this. We are very fortunate. A seismic event, perhaps 30,000 years ago, sealed the mouth of the cave. Only a recent shifting of the earth approximately a year and a half ago exposed the entrance.  It was discovered by a Basque shepherd, who then reported it to authorities.  They, in turn, contacted the university.  As a consequence, we were able to secure the site before it became contaminated.  An extraordinary opportunity, you agree?”

“Sometimes the gods smile,” Corbett nodded, pointing to a plateau halfway up the mountain.  “You mentioned setting up our base camp here and using it as a staging area.”

“Exactly so. Several weeks ago, I sent Sebastian Vega of the Museo Archeologico Nacional in Madrid ahead with the advance party to begin preparing the camp and assembling the equipment so that everything will be in readiness when you arrive. You will like him. He will act as your chief lieutenant in all matters related to the dig itself.”

“And the rest of the team…?”

“Gorka, of course, whom you met last night, will manage the day-to-day operations.  Hector, who picked you up at the airport, will be in charge of the generators as well as installing and maintaining the subterranean lighting grid – a major undertaking given the dimensions and depth of the cave.  You’ve already met your key interns. The rest of the labor will be provided by student and faculty volunteers plus local hires.  Considering the interest this discovery has aroused, we should have no shortage of manpower.”

“What about medical assistance?  On the chance something unexpected comes up?”

“There is a small clinic run by a female doctor named Amaia Alesander in the nearby village of Xeria.  We have made arrangements with them to cover most emergencies.  For anything of a more serious nature, there is a medevac service out of Bilbao.”

Hearing her name, Corbett felt a sudden tightening in the pit of his stomach as her face momentarily flashed across his mind.  Refusing to show any emotion, he forced a smile.  “Sounds like you’ve thought of everything.”

“We try.  In Spain, there is a saying: ‘Espera siempre lo inesperado.’  You are familiar with this?”

Corbett nodded: “‘Always expect the unexpected.’ Words to live by.”

*****

Having spent the rest of the day and into the evening with Asurias going over the details and demands of the dig – from stratigraphy to carbon dating (both relative and absolute) to typology, weathering and magnetometry – Corbett finally thanked him for all his help and bid him good night, promising to meet him and the others at five in the morning at the Roman Bridge for the convoy north.

Walking back toward his hotel, Corbett stared up at the blended façades of Salamanca’s two Cathedrals. Begun in the 12th century, the old cathedral had lasted 400 years