Darling — I won't get a chance to post another letter for a while — this is the last town before we take to the hills — the Brooks Range — the archaeologists are fizzing to get up here. One chap is convinced he'll find evidence of much earlier habitation than anyone suspected — I said how much earlier, and why was he convinced — he told me of some narwhal ivory carvings he'd found on a previous dig — Carbon 14 dated to some incredible age, way outside the range of what was previously assumed — anomalous, in fact. Wouldn't it be strange if they'd come through my anomaly, from some other world — talking of which, the physicist Nelson is my closest buddy now — kids me along, drops hints to imply that he knows that I know that he knows, etc. — and I pretend to be bluff Major Parry, stout fellow in a crisis but not too much between the ears, what — but I know he's after it. For one thing, although he's a bona fide academic his funding actually comes from the Ministry of Defence — I know the financial codes they use — and for another his so-called weather balloons are nothing of the sort — I looked in the crate — a radiation suit if I've ever seen one. A rum do, my darling. I shall stick to my plan — take the archaeologists to their spot and go off by myself for a few days to look for the anomaly — if I bump into Nelson wandering about on Lookout Ridge I'll play it by ear.
Later — A real bit of luck. I met Jake Petersen's pal the Eskimo, Matt Kigalik. Jake had told me where to find him but I hadn't dared to hope he'd be there. He told me the Soviets had been looking for the anomaly too — he'd come across a man earlier this year high up in the range and watched him for a couple of days without being seen, because he guessed what he was doing, and he was right, and the man turned out to be Russian, a spy; he didn't tell me more than that. I got the impression he bumped him off. But he described the thing to me. It's like a gap in the air, a sort of window. You look through it and you see another world. But it's not easy to find because that part of the other world looks just like this — rocks and moss and so forth. It's on the north side of a small creek fifty paces or so to the west of a tall rock shaped like a standing bear, and the position Jake gave me is not quite right — it's nearer 12"N than 11.
Wish me luck my darling. I'll bring you back a trophy from the spirit world — I love you for ever — kiss the boy for me — Johnny.