Death is Forever

green diamond with new appreciation.
    “All in all,” Cole said, “if that’s a representative sampling from some prospector’s cache, I doubt that it was found in Africa. ConMin’s only other significant source of diamonds is the Soviet Union, and the Soviets aren’t noted for gem goods, much less for blue-whites. Their goods have a very slight greenish tinge.”
    “Then this lot could have come from somewhere in Australia?”
    “Possibly. The Ellendale find had green gem-quality diamonds. Nothing as big or as deeply colored as that, of course, or presumably the Australian government would have developed Ellendale rather than Argyle.”
    “What you’re saying is that it’s possible these stones came from a single strike in Australia?”
    A glance at Wing’s face told Cole that he could no longer trust Wing, because there was more involved in these diamonds than profit. He’d seen Wing in quest of profit before. There was nothing of the cheerful entrepreneur about the other man right now. He was intent, dedicated, and predatory down to the tips of his immaculately manicured hands.
    “How badly do you need to know?” Cole asked calmly.
    “Not me. Us. You and me.”
    Cole’s expression hardened. “We aren’t partners any more. We sold BlackWing Resources Ltd. to your uncle five years ago.”
    “I think it would be wise for us to become partners again,” Wing said, reaching into another drawer and pulling out a sheaf of papers. “This is a partnership agreement very similar to the one we signed when we created BlackWing.”
    Cole glanced at the papers but made no move to take them. “I read too slowly,” he lied softly. “So translate the jargon into common English. But don’t go all Mandarin and lawyerly on me, or I’ll walk right out that door and catch the first plane back to Brazil.”
    Without hesitation Wing set the papers down on the desk. The fingertips of his right hand moved almost caressingly over the expensive, textured sheets. When he spoke, it was slowly, a man choosing each word with care.
    “Ten years ago we formed BlackWing Resources on the basis of your geological brilliance and my financial abilities. It was a good match, a profitable one, because each of us brought different strengths to the deal.”
    “It also worked because you hired geologists to check my work and I hired accountants to check yours,” Cole pointed out blandly.
    Wing smiled. “There was intelligence in our partnership, at least as much intelligence as trust. The Chen family needs your intelligence again. We need you.”
    “For what?”
    “We believe that you may be a part owner of the deposit that yielded these stones.”
    The air conditioning made the only sound in the room for several long moments while Cole studied Wing.
    “I’ve bought, sold, and swapped a lot of diamond claims in my life,” Cole said finally. “Are you trying to tell me I’ve overlooked something this good?”
    “Sign this partnership agreement and I’ll answer your questions. But unless and until you sign, not one more word.”
    Wing gathered the rough diamonds and began to return them one by one to the worn velvet bag. Cole watched until the green diamond vanished.
    Then he picked up the papers and began to read.

2
Alaska
    The polestar shimmered above tundra, river, and mountains alike, providing a brilliant center for the night to circle in icy splendor. Moonlight brushed the river with silver. The illumination was ghostly and cold as snow. A black wind from an undiscovered tomorrow rushed down the long valley, whispering of ancient glaciers and a coming midnight that knew no dawn.
    That was what Erin Shane Windsor hoped to capture, the delicacy and chill of eternity drawn in moonlight upon a river surface that was slowly turning to ice.
    Unaware of the cold and isolation of the vast Alaskan landscape, Erin made a final adjustment on her camera and stepped back from the tripod. She tripped the shutter with fingers that no longer could feel the texture of the bulb release. The shutter opened and closed reluctantly, stiff with cold. As insurance, she exposed several more frames of film. The long, silk-on-silk sound of the camera mechanism was loud against the arctic silence.
    After the last exposure, she immediately went to work on a new combination of settings. When she fumbled the settings a second time, she swore softly, sending out her breath in a plume of glittering silver moisture. She had only moments to