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dividing great fields of bay ice. All day they had seen softly undulating vees of snow geese flying south. Soon the snow would cover everything, and only the snow hare and the arctic fox would move. Spring, and its blaze of bright wildflowers, lay months away, beyond winter. Another world, Anna thought. It was the spring assignments she really loved, when the air was growing warmer and the animals were astir. |
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They had spent a week at the Chesterfield Inlet with a team of seismologists and petroleum geologists working the region by sled, Sno-Cat, and floatplane. One of the younger men, a fellow Canadian about Anna's age, had been attentive. Nothing had come of it, but Jake reacted badly, lashing out at her whenever the chance presented itself. She had listened silently, accepting punishment for past sins. Something below caught her eye. "Sean," she said. "To the right. Are there ever whales in Hudson Bay?" |
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"I don't see anything," Jake said. "What is it?" |
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The onshore wind was driving the new ice hard onto the lee shore, building jagged pressure ridges where the floes grounded on the rocky shingle. Short, steep waves broke over the jumbled ice. They were still more than two hours' flying time from Chesterfield. |
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"I've never seen whales here," Sean said, squinting at the scene below. "They feed on krill and there's no krill in the bay to speak of." |
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"But look over there, on the right." Anna had her camera up and was snapping pictures. |
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The two men studied the patchwork of ice and narrow open leads below. A mile or so offshore, a shape was moving through the water. Sean craned across Jake to see out the righthand window. |
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"Maybe." Sean studied the distant object through field glasses. |
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Anna looked through the telephoto lens. Something dark was traveling through the field of broken ice. But it was no |
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