Read Online Prophet of Bones by Ted Kosmatka - Free Book Online Page B

downriver.”
    Paul didn’t ask him how he knew.
    Beyond the river was the camp. Researchers in wide-brimmed hats or bandannas. Young and old. Two or three shirtless. Men with buckets, trowels, and bamboo stakes. A dark-haired woman in a white shirt sat on a log outside her tent. The sole commonality between them all: a kind of war weariness in their eyes. They’d been here long enough to have been worn down by the place.
    That was when it occurred to Paul that some of these people had probably been digging here, in this same camp, for years.
    Every face followed the jeep, and when it pulled to a stop, a small crowd gathered to help them unpack. Gavin introduced Paul around. Eight researchers, plus two laborers still in the cave and another two still working the sieves. Australian mostly. Indonesian. One American.
    “Herpetology, mate,” one of them said when he shook Paul’s hand. Small, stocky, red-headed; he couldn’t have been more than twenty-two. He wore a shaggy, coppery beard. Paul forgot his name the moment he heard it, but the introduction, “Herpetology, mate,” stuck with him. “That’s my specialty,” the small man continued. “I got mixed up in this because of Professor McMaster here. University of New England—the Australian one.” His smile was two feet wide under a sharp nose that pointed at his own chin. Paul liked him instantly.
    When they’d finished unpacking the jeep, Gavin turned to Paul. “So are you ready for the tour?”
    Paul nodded.
    The operation was larger than he’d expected. There were two different sieving setups, one dry, one wet, and a dozen tables and tents and benches, all spread out in a small clearing just beyond the mouth of the cave. A generator rumbled in the background, providing all the electricity for their lights and equipment. Construction-helmeted laborers shuffled to and from the cave, bent under their work, local villagers who spoke a language Paul couldn’t understand.
    “We used to sleep in the village of Terus during the dig season,” Gavin said. “It’s just up the road. But you’ll be staying here.” Gavin gestured toward a white canvass tent.
    Paul lifted the heavy tent flap and stuck his head inside. The space was clean and functional, like the room in Ruteng.
    “Why don’t you stay in Terus anymore?”
    “Safety issues.”
    “So Terus isn’t a friendly place, I take it?”
    “No, Terus is wonderful. It’s their safety we’re worried about.”
    Gavin’s face produced a smile. “Now I think it’s time we made the most important introductions.”
    It was a short walk to the cave. Jag-toothed limestone jutted from the jungle, an overhang of vine, and, beneath that, a dark mouth. The stone was the brown-white of old ivory. Cool air enveloped Paul, and entering Liang Bua was a distinct process of stepping down. Inside, it took Paul’s eyes a moment to adjust. The chamber was thirty yards wide, open to the jungle in a wide crescent—mud floor, high-domed ceiling. The overall impression was one of expanse, like the interior of an ancient church. He followed Gavin deeper. There was not much to see at first. In the far corner, two sticks angled from the mud, and when he looked closer Paul saw the hole.
    “Is that it?”
    “That’s it.”
    Paul took off his backpack and stripped the white paper suit out of its plastic wrapper. He peered down into the dig. “Who else has touched it?”
    “Talford, Margaret, me.”
    Paul pulled a light from his backpack and shined it into the hole. It was then that he realized just how deep it went. A system of bamboo ladders led down to the bottom, thirty feet below. He was staring into a pit. “I’ll need blood samples from everybody for comparison assays.”
    “DNA contamination?”
    “Yeah.”
    “We stopped the dig when we realized the significance.”
    “Still. I’ll need blood samples from anybody who’s dug here, anybody who came anywhere near the bones. I’ll take the samples myself