their propped flashlights throwing pale shadows beyond the prone bodies. Under the weight of the air tanks, it was slow work to keep their footing on the irregular ice. Blaine slipped again and went to one knee.
Calder steadied her tank and said, “Let’s take a breather,” his muffled voice echoing in the icy chamber.
Happy to comply, she sank to her knees and glanced at him. “I’m surprised they set up housekeeping in a permafrosted cave.”
Calder pointed to three circles of dried grasses near the right side of the cave, a split-willow basket of honeycombs lying beside one. “Frost pits. Good way to store food. Much as I hate to disturb the site, I’ll need to dig into them if there’s time after we measure and sample the bodies.”
“ Considering our limited dive schedule and the need for genetic viability analysis, it’s going to take me a few visits.”
“ Me, too.” Calder stood and began to move into the acclivity at the rear of the cave.
Blaine suppressed a shiver as she followed him. “It must have been damn cold in here, year round.”
“ Remember, this region was more frigid at the time, so it would have been really cold outside in winter, probably colder than the cave. And windy.”
“ But why walk all the way to the back of the tunnel? Some places were wide enough to live in.”
Calder pointed back to the stone hearth and adjacent fire pit by the child’s body. “Easier to heat the back end.”
A gutted fish lay adjacent to the pit, the skeleton resembling a sturgeon’s, and Blaine could see strips of flesh interspersed with wood chips. “They must have made trips all the way to the Panj,” she said. “A fish this size couldn’t have lived in the shallow stream that must have run through the valley before it became dammed.”
“ Look’s like a shovelnose,” Calder said. “They must have been bigger then.”
“ It’s a pallid sturgeon,” Blaine said. “Similar to a shovelnose but larger.”
“ You’re an expert on fish as well as humans and mice?” he said in a long-suffering tone.
“ In graduate school I worked on a genetic study of riverine fish for the state of Wisconsin. We used microsatellite primers to detect genetic differences. We found that shovelnose and pallid sturgeons are genetically identical except for four or five alleles.”
“ Microsatellite? Sounds like a space—” He held up a gloved hand. “Never mind.”
She shined her light on two objects nearby: a wood-hafted obsidian knife and a quartz hand ax. They lay at casual angles near a hollowed and blackened stone with a wick of twisted fiber. Nearby sat a chunk of rock salt and a section of honeycomb. Beyond, the beam reflected off the white bark of a chopped birch log.
“ Looks like they were beginning to cook the sturgeon when the calamity struck.” She glanced around the icy floor. “It must have been quick and dirty. The coals got scattered.”
“ They were kippering the fish to extend its shelf life.”
Blaine glanced around at the close confines. “I should think they’d have been asphyxiated.”
“ The crack continued at the back of the cave and led to the surface.”
She looked up in surprise. “How do you know that?”
Calder pointed to the ceiling of the cave, where a black stain showed through the coating of ice leading from the kitchen area toward the rear.
“ An air current existed. The chimney must have been pinched off by the same big quake that dammed the stream to form the lake. Otherwise, with nothing to contain the air pressure, the cave would have flooded.”
Blaine nodded. “Even so, it would take a rugged and canny breed to live like this.”
“ No argument.”
She surveyed the bodies. “All three look hale.” She paused to examine them more closely. Each could have served as a poster person for physical fitness and the woman, she thought, was good-looking by any standards. If all prehistoric peoples looked like this . . .
She looked at Calder.
Calder steadied her tank and said, “Let’s take a breather,” his muffled voice echoing in the icy chamber.
Happy to comply, she sank to her knees and glanced at him. “I’m surprised they set up housekeeping in a permafrosted cave.”
Calder pointed to three circles of dried grasses near the right side of the cave, a split-willow basket of honeycombs lying beside one. “Frost pits. Good way to store food. Much as I hate to disturb the site, I’ll need to dig into them if there’s time after we measure and sample the bodies.”
“ Considering our limited dive schedule and the need for genetic viability analysis, it’s going to take me a few visits.”
“ Me, too.” Calder stood and began to move into the acclivity at the rear of the cave.
Blaine suppressed a shiver as she followed him. “It must have been damn cold in here, year round.”
“ Remember, this region was more frigid at the time, so it would have been really cold outside in winter, probably colder than the cave. And windy.”
“ But why walk all the way to the back of the tunnel? Some places were wide enough to live in.”
Calder pointed back to the stone hearth and adjacent fire pit by the child’s body. “Easier to heat the back end.”
A gutted fish lay adjacent to the pit, the skeleton resembling a sturgeon’s, and Blaine could see strips of flesh interspersed with wood chips. “They must have made trips all the way to the Panj,” she said. “A fish this size couldn’t have lived in the shallow stream that must have run through the valley before it became dammed.”
“ Look’s like a shovelnose,” Calder said. “They must have been bigger then.”
“ It’s a pallid sturgeon,” Blaine said. “Similar to a shovelnose but larger.”
“ You’re an expert on fish as well as humans and mice?” he said in a long-suffering tone.
“ In graduate school I worked on a genetic study of riverine fish for the state of Wisconsin. We used microsatellite primers to detect genetic differences. We found that shovelnose and pallid sturgeons are genetically identical except for four or five alleles.”
“ Microsatellite? Sounds like a space—” He held up a gloved hand. “Never mind.”
She shined her light on two objects nearby: a wood-hafted obsidian knife and a quartz hand ax. They lay at casual angles near a hollowed and blackened stone with a wick of twisted fiber. Nearby sat a chunk of rock salt and a section of honeycomb. Beyond, the beam reflected off the white bark of a chopped birch log.
“ Looks like they were beginning to cook the sturgeon when the calamity struck.” She glanced around the icy floor. “It must have been quick and dirty. The coals got scattered.”
“ They were kippering the fish to extend its shelf life.”
Blaine glanced around at the close confines. “I should think they’d have been asphyxiated.”
“ The crack continued at the back of the cave and led to the surface.”
She looked up in surprise. “How do you know that?”
Calder pointed to the ceiling of the cave, where a black stain showed through the coating of ice leading from the kitchen area toward the rear.
“ An air current existed. The chimney must have been pinched off by the same big quake that dammed the stream to form the lake. Otherwise, with nothing to contain the air pressure, the cave would have flooded.”
Blaine nodded. “Even so, it would take a rugged and canny breed to live like this.”
“ No argument.”
She surveyed the bodies. “All three look hale.” She paused to examine them more closely. Each could have served as a poster person for physical fitness and the woman, she thought, was good-looking by any standards. If all prehistoric peoples looked like this . . .
She looked at Calder.
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