Volume 3 Hello, Eri Chapter 181 Death of the Black Swan (I)
The Soviet Union in 1991 had lost its former glory. People doubted whether they could reach communism along the current path. There were calls for independence in every republic, and the wavering hearts of the people were like invisible blades hanging over the head of this aging country.
The streets and alleys of Moscow are filled with crowds of people. In the pubs, men are whispering about the future of the country over glasses of vodka. They no longer have jobs to do, and the only thing they can do is to get angry and grief-stricken over their wine glasses. Women, with helpless smiles on their faces, are carefully calculating their few savings bills. No one knows what the future will be like.
But not every place in the vast territory of the Soviet Union was filled with such pessimism.
For example, Black Swan Harbor.
Black Swan Port is just a name that people call it by chance, because it is located within the Arctic Circle, facing the vast Arctic Ocean, surrounded by grayish-white permafrost, and the blue-gray fortress made of reinforced concrete is like a mottled spot on the snow field, so someone gave it the elegant name of Black Swan Port, which means black swan in the white snow.
Black Swan Port cannot be found on the map. The climate here is too cold, with temperatures of minus 20 to 30 degrees Celsius being commonplace. The nearest city is Verkhoyansk, which once won the title of the coldest town on Earth, with a temperature of minus 70 degrees Celsius. But if people knew that there is Black Swan Port more than 300 kilometers north of this city, then the honorary title of the coldest town on Earth would have changed hands.
This is a land forgotten by God, a truly isolated place, without any external communication equipment. Even if you are just missing a little equipment, you will die in the cold if you leave Black Swan Harbor. Looking around, there is nothing but white, and the only plants are lichens and mosses. Anyone who visits here will understand what true loneliness and despair are, with the occasional exception being polar bears, who will also visit this place rarely and dig out some leftover garbage outside Black Swan Harbor.
The wind started to blow, and black rain clouds rolled up at the end of the ice sea, and the snow dust on the sea surface was rolled up, like a white sandstorm, which was a precursor to the coming blizzard. The sentinel rushed to the iron frame and rang the bronze bell. The sound of the bell spread across the lonely snowfield. In a place like this, the sound of the bell could let anyone get the news at the first time.
He covered his hat and prepared his rifle to go back for shelter, but he suddenly heard some faint shouting, and his keen intuition made him turn his head and look at the horizon again.
Gray elves appeared on the horizon, nimbly bypassing the protruding ice reefs. They were in groups of eight, all with handsome cross-shaped brown hair on their foreheads, and tied with ropes to pull a sled. A total of five sleds were galloping one after another. In this barren snowfield, perhaps only these elves from the snow can move so freely, and even make happy noises while flying, because they haven't run so freely for a long time.
It was a dog sled team consisting of forty Siberian Huskies, also known by their nickname - Huskies.
Dog sledding is the most useful means of transportation in such places. The extreme cold makes it easy for those machines commonly used in cities and the wild to have unknown parts damage. If you think that an off-road vehicle can go unimpeded, you are really underestimating the power of nature . Getting off the vehicle for repairs in weather of minus 30 to 50 degrees Celsius is definitely not a good choice.
But Siberian Huskies are different. This is their innate talent. DNA tests have proven that this ancient dog breed may be one of the oldest dogs in the world. Some Huskies can even blend into wolf packs and cannot be distinguished by the naked eye.
The sled dog team rushed to Black Swan Harbor like a sword. Behind them in the distance were dark clouds sweeping in. It was a life-and-death race, but fortunately they had gained the upper hand.
The sentry had no way of confirming whether these people were seeking refuge. They might be extreme sports enthusiasts who set out from Verkhoyansk to broaden their horizons in the Arctic Circle. He pulled up his sling and raised his rifle to aim at the man in front. Black Swan Port was a military restricted area, and they had the right to shoot anyone who approached without permission.
But the other side waved the flag in their hands, which was a code word that could open the gate to Black Swan Harbor. The sentinels had to put away their guns and watch the team, barking dogs, getting closer and closer. They really looked like a tour group.
The huskies raised a cloud of snow dust half a person's height, which splashed all over the sentry. These well-trained snow elves arrived at the destination on time, but were not satisfied with this hundreds of kilometers long relay cross-country race. They howled around the stopped sled and sniffed at the sentry's feet. The sentry was overwhelmed by the pack of dogs and could only raise his hands helplessly, watching the most majestic husky try to jump up and knock him down.
"KGB Major Bondarev, from Moscow." The leading man took out his ID and threw it to the sentry, "Take me to see Dr. Herzog and tell him that this is a life-or-death moment. If you still want a future, don't waste our precious time."
The sentry had to look up to talk to Major Bondarev. His height was outstanding even in the army, and his appearance was as handsome as that of male stars in movies. His golden hair was neatly combed back, shining like gold. The sentry couldn't help but think of the middle-aged women in Black Swan Harbor who were thirsty and eager to get close to him. If they saw this officer, they would definitely rush over with peach blossoms in their eyes.
The other four people all wore masks to keep warm, and they had no intention of revealing their true identities to the sentry. They just watched Bondarev take the lead in entering the gate of Black Swan Port. The sentry did not intend to check them one by one. Bondarev's status was far higher than his, and having the flag code to enter Black Swan Port was the best proof of his identity.
The outside world was icy and snowy, but the Black Swan Harbor was warm as spring. Bondarev had to take off his coat and hang it on the back of the chair to avoid sweating too much. As the leader of the visiting team, he met with Dr. Herzog, the highest person in charge of the Black Swan Harbor, alone.
This is a very interesting old man, with the characteristics of both a soldier and a scientist. Although he was going to meet a guest, Herzog still wore a gray woolen coat for research and had no intention of dressing up. But if you look closely, you will find that there is not a single thread on his body. His pure silver hair is neatly combed, straight and handsome, and the deep depths of his eyes reveal a sharp light that is no less than that of Major Bondarev, which makes people feel that he is actually very young, but the scars on his hair and his face show that he is indeed old.
"Cheers to our great country and you, Comrade Major. Welcome to Black Swan Harbor." Herzog raised his glass. "Red Label Vodka is a good wine that can make a man's blood burn. It is a sin to waste any drop. Every year when the icebreaker comes, they will bring a special box for me. It does not need to be given to others as a private collection. This is the last bottle of last year, and I have been drinking it according to the plan."
"To be honest, I don't really like vodka. In my opinion, it's just pure alcohol. If you go to a factory and pick up a glass of alcohol, you can call it vodka after it's been distilled." Major Bondarev seemed to be a man of elegant taste. Although he didn't like vodka, he still raised his glass to clink with Dr. Herzog in a heroic manner, "For our country, Dr. Herzog."
"Every summer when the ice breaks, the Lenin will deliver a year's worth of supplies. That's one of the rare lively days at Black Swan Port. Girls can wear short skirts and stand on the high platform to look at the icebreaker that symbolizes happiness and sweetness. In their eyes, the Lenin is a messenger from heaven, loaded with candy skirts and stockings. Officers will also smile rarely, because that means vodka and cigarettes. But this year, it's not the Lenin that came here, but a KGB major. Do you have a year's worth of supplies for Black Swan Port in your uniform pocket?"
"Unfortunately, there are no more supplies, and there never will be." Bondarev poured himself a glass of wine. He had just said he didn't like it. "Our great motherland is facing a disaster. The economy is deteriorating, people's hearts are scattered, the army has to be disarmed and can't pay soldiers, and the factories have no raw materials to start production. The Union of Soviet Socialist Republics may become a thing of the past. The country is no longer able to draw materials to supply this port far away in the Arctic Ocean. It may not survive this year."
Herzog sighed softly: "There is no communication equipment here, and we have no contact with the outside world. Every year, the Lenin brings a year's worth of newspapers so that we can learn about the outside world. I saw some changes in the current situation in last year's newspapers, but I didn't expect it to come so soon."
"The country's wealth will be divided up, including armaments, factories, weapons, fleets, and even missiles. The same goes for this port. I have been ordered to come here to count the property and appraise its value," Bondarev said.
"The fate of the entire port is in your hands. No wonder it is said to be a moment of life and death." Herzog smiled faintly. "You are here to investigate the function of this port, right? A port built deep in the ice and isolated from the world should be hiding some shameful secrets in the eyes of most people. But unfortunately, I have to tell you that this is just a gene bank. In order to prevent nuclear war, we collected genes from all races in the Soviet Union and built a huge gene bank. Even if mankind is destroyed by a nuclear war, we can revive mankind with the help of cloning technology. This is a natural ice cellar. Even if there is a power outage, the gene samples can be preserved for hundreds of thousands of years."
" You are being too conceited, Dr. Herzog." Bondarev smiled and shook the wine glass in his hand. The red liquid was as transparent as blood under the light. "I only said that I was ordered to come here, but I didn't say that was my purpose. If you want to do something, you must have a suitable identity."
"You are not a KGB major, right?" Herzog also laughed. "I am a geneticist. The vast majority of Russians in the Soviet Union belong to the Caucasian race. Men have narrower noses, thinner lips, distinct facial features, more body hair, and a sturdy physique. Although you are also tall, after taking off your coat, you have lean and muscular body. It is not easy for Russians to have such a handsome face."
"You are not the chief geneticist of the Soviet Union. You are indeed engaged in genetic engineering, but you are a German Aryan who once worked for the Nazis. Hitler wanted someone to support his theory of genocide to prove that the Aryans were the most outstanding race in the world, so he needed genetics to provide proof. You did this work for him. After the end of World War II, Germany was judged as a defeated country, and a large amount of state-owned resources and outstanding talents were divided up by the victorious countries. It was at this time that you were taken away by the Soviet Union."
Bondarev drank the wine in his glass. "Everyone knows it, so don't talk with a mask. I know that the financial backer behind you is the Alexander family. They are a bunch of parasites who make a living by selling arms. They are relatively rich and can afford a place like you that burns money. They have enough capital to erase the files of this port. But things in the world are never that simple. As long as they exist, there will be evidence left."
"What is your purpose?" Herzog stared into Bondarev's eyes. If Bondarev was a KGB major from Moscow, it would be understandable for him to remain respectful, but now that everyone has revealed their identities and is talking openly, he is still calling you that.
This is a cover-up. Herzog secretly squeezed the gun in his pocket. He was a little afraid of Bondarev who came from nowhere. All secret things were as clear as transparent water in front of Bondarev. He didn't know how much Bondarev knew about Black Swan Port. Until now, Bondarev had not revealed any malice, which meant that at least at this negotiation table, Herzog still had some value.
"Your research." Bondarev said simply and clearly. When he was serious, he was indeed as solemn and stern as an officer, with a faint dangerous smile emanating from his body, which made people shudder. "I know what you are doing here, but I don't know how much you have done and to what extent, so I came to discuss the price with you."
"Are you here to bribe me?" Herzog was surprised.
"The Soviet Union is about to disintegrate. Alexander is busy protecting himself. His backer has fallen, and he has to make plans for future development. If he wants to free up his hands to take care of the port, he has to wait until he settles down. The people he sent to contact you are already buried in the ice of Siberia." Bondarev shrugged, looking innocent, as if what he said had nothing to do with him. "It will take at least a few months for him to reestablish contact with you, but the storage at the port can't last that long. In a few months, everyone here will starve to death. I showed up at this time to avoid Alexander's eyes and negotiate a reasonable price with you. I plan to buy this port and you and take over this research. To do this, I need to know how much you are worth."
