Vostok by Steve Alten Read Free Book Online

and most of the places in the village only take cash. It’s a fair walk intae town, but I can drive ye.”
    “That would be nice.”
    “My pleasure. Fiddler’s serves the best haggis and tatties this side o’ the Ness. Your friends can drink in the café while you and me sit in the backroom and get tae ken one another.”
    Liao ignored True’s attempt at romance. “Fiddler’s sounds fine. Make the reservations for four. Oh, and could you arrange for Angus Wallace to meet us there?”
    “Angus? Whit do ye want with that old buzzard?”
    “Please tell him I have a business proposition to discuss.”

    Fiddler’s was located on the other side of the A82 highway across the road from the Oakdale Bed and Breakfast. The two-story white stucco structure housed a pub and restaurant downstairs along with a café extension that was strictly for drinking. The rooms upstairs were for rent. During tourist season the restaurant was always crowded, with seating overflowing outside onto the patio. The frigid March weather kept its local patrons indoors, most stopping by to partake of a Fiddler’s homemade malt whisky chosen from over five hundred selections.
    My father was seated alone at a table in the back room behindthe bar, feasting on venison steak and black pudding with a bottle of cider. Angus Wallace’s mane of silver-gray hair was tucked under a green Nessie’s Lair golf cap, and his matching beard and mustache sported remnants from his meal. His piercing gray-blue eyes glanced up as Liao entered the hideaway. “Dr. Liao, I presume? My-my, aren’t ye a dazzling Chinese dish. Enough tae set my daughter-in-law off, I’ll wager.”
    “May I sit?”
    “Sit, piss, shyte, do whitever ye want. Ye came a long way tae get rejected. Antarctica, huh? Imagin’ it gets quite Baltic in that ice box.”
    “Baltic? Ah, you mean cold. Yes, very cold. But how did you—”
    “Lass, I’ve connections all aboot the Great Glen, including immigration, and I like tae ken who’s stayin’ under my roof. Three eggheads an’ a sub pilot, all here tae recruit my Zachary. All that way ye traveled and the lad turned ye down.”
    “He would have signed on if—”
    “Brandy? Ye think so, do ye? Ye ken nothing aboot my son.”
    “We offered him the chance of a lifetime, and he passed it up for a faculty position at Cambridge.”
    “What was yer offer?”
    “I’m afraid that’s confidential, but it amounts to quite a figure for the summer season.”
    “Summer in Antarctica… is that anything like winter in Hell?”
    “It’s cold, but we will assemble an environmental dome to protect our team from the elements.”
    “Aye. And ye’ll be accompanying him on this chance-of-a-lifetime mission?”
    “Correct. My role is to analyze the geology of Lake Vostok. As for the mission itself, the risk is minimal. I think he’s more afraid of upsetting his wife.”
    “Lass, yer bum’s hangin’ way oot the windae. Yer talkin’ rubbish. This ain’t aboot money or pleasin’ his auld lady. It’s aboot fear. Ye think yer the only one who’s come calling on my son since his latest resurrection? The lad’s passed on every underwater expedition offered, and better paying ones than yers. Ye forget, Zachary near died aboard one of them submersibles three years back. If it means going underwater, the answer is always no.”
    “What if he didn’t have to make the dive? Right now, I just need him on the expedition to secure a few private investors.”
    “And so ye’ve come tae me for help because ye heard the lad listens tae his auld man like I was Jesus climbed down from the cross.”
    “Well, no. But if that is true—”
    “Lassy, butts are fer crappin’. Ye came here tae bribe me, so start yer bribing.”
    She reached into her bag and removed an envelope. “This is a letter of commitment. When your son signs it and arrives at our new station in East Antarctica you will receive a sum equaling five thousand U.S. dollars.”
    Angus