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To die by fire； he reflected； the last seconds of life spent in indescribable agony； was an extinction abhorred by every living man and beast。
Pitt kneeled down and studied the body more closely。 His eyes squinted and his mouth tightened。 It must have been almost as he had visualized； but not quite。 The scorched form was curled in the fetus position； the knees drawn up almost to the chin and the arms pulled tightly against the sides； contracted by the mtnse heat upon the flesh。 But there was something else that caught Pitts attention。 He focused the flashlight on the deck beside the body； illuminating dimly the twisted steel legs of the radio operator's chair where they protruded from beneath his disfigured remains。
Hunnewell； his face void of all color； asked： 〃What do you find so interesting in that grisly thing？〃
〃Have a look；〃 Pitt said。 〃It would seem that poor Gustav was sitting down when he died。 His chair literally burned out from under him。〃
Hunnewell said nothing； only eyed Pitt questioningly。
〃Doesn't it strike you strange；〃 Pitt continued； 〃that a man would calmly burn to death without bothering to stand up or make an effort to escape？〃
〃Nothing strange about it；〃 Hunnewell said stonily。 〃The fire probably engulfed him while he was hunched over the transmitter sending out a Mayday。〃
He began to choke with sickness again。 〃God； we're not doing him any good with our conjectures。 Let's get out of here and search the rest of the ship while I'm still able to walk。〃
Pitt nodded and turned and passed through the doorway。 Together they made their way into the bowels of the derelict。 The engine room； the galley； the salon； everywhere they went their eyes were laid on the same horrifying spectacle of death as in the radio room。 By the time they discovered the thirteenth and fourteenth bodies in the wheelhouse； Hunnewell's stomach was slowly being immune。 He consulted his notebook several more times； marking certain pages with a pencil until only one name between the padded covers remaimed that didn't have a neat line drawn through it。
〃That's about it；〃 he said； snapping the book shut。
〃We've found them all except the man we came for。〃
Pitt lit a cigarette and blew a long cloud of blue smoke and seemed to consider for a moment。 〃They were all charred so far beyond recognition； he could have been any one of them。〃
〃But he wasn't；〃 Hunnewell said positively。 〃The body won't be too difficult to identify； at least not for me。〃 He paused。 〃I knew our quarry rather well； you know。〃
Pitts eyebrows raised。 〃No； I didn't know。〃
〃No secret really。〃 Hunnewell puffed on the lenses of his glasses and polished them with a handkerchief。
〃The man we've lied； schemed and risked our lives to find…unfortunately； as it probably turns out； dead…attended one of my classes at the Oceanographic Institute six years ago。 A brilliant fellow。〃 He motioned toward the two cremated forms on the deck。 〃A pity if he ended like this。〃
〃How can you be certain you'll be able to tell him from the others？〃 Pitt asked。
〃By his rings。 He had a thing about rings。 Wore them on every finger except his thumbs。〃
〃Rings don't make a positive identification。〃
Hunnewell smiled a little。 〃There is also a toe missing from the left foot。 Will that do？〃
〃It would；〃 Pitt said thoughtfully。 〃But we haven't found a corpse that qualifies。 We've already searched the entire ship。〃
〃Not quite。〃 Hunnewell pulled a slip of paper from the notebook and unfolded it under the beam of his flashlight。 〃This is a rough diagram of the vessel。 I traced a copy from the original in the maritime archives。〃 He pointed at the creased paper。 〃See here； just beyond the chartroom。 A narrow ladder drops to a partment directly beneath a false funnel。 It's the only entrance。〃
Pitt studied the crude tracing。 Then he turned and stepped outside the chartroom。 〃The opening is here all right。 The ladder is burned all to hell； but enough of the rung bracing is left to support our weight。〃
The isolated partment…situated in the exact center of the hull without benefit of portholes…was savaged even worse than the others； the steel plating on the walls curved outward； buckled like crinkled sheets of wallpaper。 It appeared。 empty。 No trace of anything that remotely resembled furnishings was left after the conflagration。 Pitt was just kneeling down； poking the ashes； searching for a sign of a body； when Hunnewell shouted。
〃Here！〃 He fell to his knees。 〃Over here in the corner。〃 Hunnewell focused the light on the sprawled outline of what had once been a man； now a barely discernible pile of charred bones。 Only bits of the jawbone and pelvis were recognizable。 Then he bent very low and carefully brushed away an area of the remains。
When Hunnewell stood up； he held several small pieces of distorted metal in his hand。
〃Not proof positive perhaps。 But about as certain as we'll ever get。〃
Pitt took the fused bits of metal and held them under the beam of his light。
〃I remember the rings quite well；〃 Hunnewell said。
〃The settings were beautifully handcrafted and inlaid with eight different semiprecious stones native to Iceland。 Each was carved in the likeness of an ancient Nordic god。〃
〃Sounds impressive but garish；〃 Pitt said。
〃To you； a stranger maybe；〃 Hunnewell returned quietly。 〃Yet if you had known him…〃 His voice trailed off。
Pitt eyed Hunnewell speculatively。 〃Do you always form sentimental attachments to your students？〃
〃Genius； adventurer； scientist； legend； the tenth richest man in the world before he was twenty…five。 A kind and gentle person totally untouched by his fame and wealth。 Yes； I think you could safely say a friendship with Kristjan Fyrie could result in a sentimental attachment。〃
How strange； Pitt thought。 It was the first time the scientist had mentioned Fyrie's name since they had left Washington。 And it had been uttered in a hushed； almost reverent tone。 The same inflection； Pitt recalled； that Admiral Sandecker had also used when he spoke of the Icelander。
Pitt was conscious of no awe as he stood over the pitiful remains of the man who had been one of the most powerful figures in international finance。 As he stood there staring down； his mind simply could not associate the ashes at his feet with the flesh…and…blood person the world's newspapers referred to as the apotheosis of the swinging intellectual jetsetter… Perhaps if he had met the celebrated Kristjan Fyrie； an emotion of some sort might be present now。 But then； Pitt truly doubted it。 He wasn't one to impress easily。 Take away the clothes of the greatest living man； his father once told him； and you behold a very embarrassed； naked and defenseless animal。
Pitt looked at the twisted metal rings for a moment and then passed them back to Hunnewell； and as he did he heard the faint sound of movement somewhere on the deck above。 He froze； listening intently。
But the sound had died in the blackness beyond the upper hatchway。 There was something sinister in the quality of the silence that hung over the devastated cabin…a feeling that someone was observing their every motion； listening to thei